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CHAPLAIN   FULLER: 


A    LIFE    SKETCH 


A   NEW  ENGLAND    CLERGYMAN 
AND  ARMY  CHAPLAIN 


BY    RICHARD    F.  DULLER. 


"  I  must  do  something  for  my  country." 
"  Dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  patria  mori." 


BOSTON: - 
WALKER,    WISE,    AND    COMPANY, 

245  WASHINGTON  STREET. 
1863. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

EMMA    LUCILLA    FULLER, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 

WELCH,    BIGELOW,   AND  COMPANY, 

CAMBRIDGE. 


e 
\ 

\(otW 


PREFACE. 


"Poscimur : — si  quid  vacui  sub  umbra 
Lusimus  tecum,  quod  et  hunc  in  annum 
Vivat,  et  plures,  —  age,  die  .... 
Barbite,  carmen ! " 


EREAVEMENT  naturally  leads  us  to  recall 
the  scenes  of  the  life  of  the  departed,  to 
look  over  the  memorials  of  his  virtues  and 
the  souvenirs  of  his  love.  This  employment  has  af- 
forded a  sad  satisfaction,  and  the  general  interest 
manifested  in  the  fate  of  Chaplain  Fuller,  as  well  as 
the  historic  scenes  in  which  he  participated,  has  led  to 
the  publication  of  his  biography. 

It  is  hoped  that  this  labor  of  love  may  be  of  advan- 
tage to  the  family  of  the  Chaplain,  to  whose  benefit 
its  pecuniary  avails  are  devoted. 

The  pen  of  the  Chaplain  has  been  made  to  write  the 
greater  part  of  his  biography.  Especially  in  martial 
scenes  does  he  make  his  own  record. 

As  Ms  character  is  unfolded  in  these  pages,  we  think 
the  pure  and  patriotic  motive  which  led  him  to  seal  the 


357623 


IV  PREFACE. 

devotion  of  his  life  with  his  blood,  stands  forth  in  bold 
and  unmistakable  prominence. 

War  scenes  and  incidents,  historical  personages  and 
places,  render  the  theme  of  this  book  of  universal 
interest.  The  full  and  particular  narrative  of  the 
combat  of  the  Merrimac  and  Monitor,  of  which  the 
Chaplain  was  an  eyewitness,  is  one  of  his  sketches 
of  important  events  which  have  a  value  for  historical 
reference. 

And  it  is  believed  that  not  only  the  religious  public, 
but  the  general  reader,  will  be  interested  in  the  narra- 
tive which  depicts  a  specimen  of  the  New  England 
clergy,  a  class  remarkable  for  its  position  and  influence 
among  a  free  people. 

Upon  the  Chaplain's  childhood  and  youth  we  have 
dwelt  with  some  particularity,  not  only  because  of 
their  general  importance  as  the  key  to  the  sequel  of 
life,  but  also  on  account  of  the  public  interest  in  his 
sister  Margaret,  who  was  the  loadstar  of  his  early 
days. 


CONTENTS. 


PART    I. 

CHILDHOOD    AND    YOUTH. 

CHAP.  PAQB 

I.    LINEAGE 3 

n.     CHILDHOOD 15 

III.  YOUTH 35 

IV.  BELVIDERE,  OR  THE  MISSIONARY 57 

V.    DIVINITY  SCHOOL 77 


PART    II. 

THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CLERGYMAN. 

I.    MANCHESTER 87 

II.    BOSTON 115 

III.    EPISODES ,141 


PART    III. 

THE    ARMY    CHAPLAIN. 

I.    THE  GREAT  REBELLION    .        .        .      •  .        .        .        .157 

II.    FORTRESS  MONROE 170 

III.    FORTRESS   INCIDENTS  :  INCLUDING    THE   CONTEST    BE- 
TWEEN THE  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR       .        .        .    213 

y 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


IV.  THE  PENINSULAS  CAMPAIGN 

V.  SHADOWS          .        .        . 

VI.  FREDERICKSBUBG 

VII.  OBSEQUIES       .... 

VIII.  APPKECIATION      .        .       . 

IX.  TRIBUTES  IN  VERSE 


246 
278 
294 
308 
322 
335 


PART    I. 

CHILDHOOD    AND    YOUTH 


"  How  many  are  you,  then,"  said  I, 

"  If  they  two  are  in  heaven  ?  " 
Quick  was  the  little  maid's  reply, 

"  O  Master,  we  are  seven  !  " 

"  But  they  are  dead  ;  those  two  are  dead  !  — 

Their  spirits  are  in  heaven  ! " 
'T  was  throwing  words  away ;  for  still 
The  little  maid  would  have  her  will, 

And  said,   "  Nay,  we  are  seven  !  " 

WORDSWORTH. 


CHAPTER    I. 

LINEAGE. 

"Parvum  Nilum  videre." 

HERE  is  a  natural  curiosity  to  trace  a  stream 
to  its  source  —  to  follow  it  back  to  the  hills 
from  whose  bosom  it  first  springs  to  life. 
The  more  noble  the  flow  of  its  current, 
the  more  beneficent  its  waters,  in  opening  paths  to 
inland  navigation  or  furnishing  food  for  man,  so  much 
the  keener  is  curiosity  to  trace  it  to  the  crystal 
fountain  of  its  origin.  The  undiscovered  source  of 
the  Nile  was  for  centuries  the  theme  of  speculation. 
Inquirers,  after  the  ancient  method,  propounded  this 
practical  question  to  the  oracles  of  reason,  and  drew 
from  them  the  enigmatical  responses  of  theory ;  never 
apparently  thinking  of  the  solution,  which  modern  em- 
piricism has  reached,  by  actually  threading  back  the 
stream,  and  thus  working  out  the  safe  result  of  obser- 
vation. 

Human  life,  like  the  river,  may  attract  little  public 
notice  in  its  playful  early  course,  when  prattling 
among  the  parent  hills,  or  leaping  in  gay  cascades 
on  its  downward  way,  to  swell,  eventually,  into  the 
graver,  deeper  current  of  manhood.  But  if,  as  its 
waters  gather  head,  they  furnish  a  spectacle  of  nat- 


4  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

ural  beauty  in  their  flow  or  fall,  or  bestow  public 
blessings  in  banks  made  green  and  fruitful,  or  bounti- 
ful fisheries,  or  bear  upon  their  back  the  burdens  of 
navigation,  or  attract  attention  by  the  glory  of  their 
exit  into  the  sea,  symbolizing  the  issue  of  life  for 
time  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  —  then  men  turn  their 
steps  back  to  the  early  stream,  and  search  out,  in  its 
source  and  surroundings,  every  presage  of  its  destiny. 
It  is  generally  believed,  that  character,  as  a  common 
rule,  bears  the  impress  of  family  origin.  In  the  divis- 
ion of  mankind  into  races,  each  race  preserves  in  its 
history  distinguishing  traits,  both  physical  and  intel- 
lectual, so  decidedly  marked  as  to  induce  some  in- 
genious naturalists  to  deny  one  common  origin  to  all 
the  human  species.  So  in  the  subdivisions  of  race 
into  families,  we  often  observe  the  .prominent  charac- 
teristics repeated  in  successive  generations.  There  is 
very  much,  it  is  true,  to  disturb  this  natural  result. 
Marriage  dilutes  the  family  blood.  Circumstances, 
which  serve  to  evoke  the  fire  of  genius  or  talent,  often 
allow  it  to  slumber  for  subsequent  generations.  Es- 
pecially is  the  success  of  parents  wont  to  leave  buried 
in  the  luxurious  nurture  or  outward  advantages  of 
offspring  those  energies  which  the  res  angustce  domi 
first  developed  in  their  own  childhood,  early  poverty 
nurtured,  and  a  severe  but  kind  adversity  trained  to 
wrestle  in  the  arena  of  difficulty,  till  a  surpassing 
strength  was  attained.  From  the  influence  of  these 
disturbing  causes,  it  is  almost  or  quite  impossible  to 
calculate  the  share  which  family  traits  have  in  the 
problem  of  individual  destiny.  Yet  a  growing  atten- 
tion is  paid,  and,  we  think,  reasonably,  to  this  subject. 


LINEAGE.  5 

Genealogical  trees  are  more  assiduously  cultivated. 
The  ramifications  of  kindred  are  traced  to  the  trunk ; 
thence  the  root  is  sought  out ;  and,  still  unsatisfied, 
the  genealogist  inquires  for  the  seed,  whence  it  ger- 
minated, what  wind  wafted  it  to  the  place  where  it  fell 
into  the  foster  bosom  of  the  earth,  and,  if  possible, 
from  what  tree  did  the  seed  come.  Such  inquiries 
may  be  sometimes  too  minute,  or  pushed  beyond  the 
clew  of  fact,  into  the  worse  than  useless  vagaries  of 
mere  speculation.  Yet,  to  a  reasonable  extent,  family 
history  forms  a  legitimate  introduction  to  a  biography. 
We  are,  happily,  able  to  afford  a  glimpse  at  the 
ancestry  of  the  subject  of  this  narrative.  His  Amer- 
ican forefather,  Thomas  Fuller,  was  lured  to  these 
shores  by  curiosity,  in  1638.  We  have  an  authentic 
account  of  his  tour  and  its  results,  in  some  verses, 
which,  as  they  seem  to  possess  few  of  the  other 
characteristics  of  poetry,  we  trust  are  equally  free 
from  its  propensity  to  fiction.*  He  declares  that 
he  was  won  over  by  the  preaching  of  the  famous 
Shepard,  the  echo  of  whose  eloquence  (saith  our 
record)  "  after  the  lapse  of  two  centuries  has  scarcely 
died  away  "  ;  and  that  his  converted  heart  was  led  to 
love  liberty  to  worship  God  in  the  wilderness  better 
than  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  left  behind  him  in  old 
England.  An  irreverent  family  tradition  has  mali- 

*  If  the  public  deem  us  to  speak  too  lightly  of  our  honored  ancestor, 
they  can  themselves  try  the  poetical  question  by  a  reference  to  "  Histori- 
cal Notices  of  Thomas  Fuller  and  his  Descendants,  with  a  Genealogy  of  the 
Fuller  Family,"  contained  in  the  New  England  Historical  and  Genealogical 
Register  for  October,  1859,  and  also  to  be  found  in  the  Appendix  to  the 
first  volume  of  the  edition  of  the  Memoirs  and  Works  of  Margaret  Fuller, 
published  by  Walker,  Wise,  &  Co.  Boston.  1863. 


6  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

ciously  dared  to  assert  that  the  black  eyes  of  a  certain 
Miss  Richardson,  who  conditioned  the  boon  of  her 
hand  upon  a  New  England  residence,  were  the  true 
loadstars  of  American  attraction  with  our  worthy  pro- 
genitor. But,  for  ourselves,  we  at  once  and  forever 
repel  the  soft  impeachment,  not  merely  as  reflecting 
upon  our  ancestor's  veracity  and  parole  of  honor  (for 
he  was  a  lieutenant  of  militia)  ;  but  because  we  are 
sure  no  one  could  win  enough  the  favor  of  the  Muses 
to  coin  rhymes,  who  would  fail  to  acknowledge  in  his 
verse  so  honorable  a  leading  as  the  lustrous  eyes  of 
a  maiden  in  determining  his  line  of  destiny.  The 
supposition  that,  in  the  blind  romance  of  first  love,  he 
misconceived  his  true  motive,  is  alike  inadmissible  in 
the  case  of  our  American  patriarch.  No !  that  he 
was  a  true  Puritan,  with  a  large  place  for  the  religious 
element  in  his  character  as  the  controlling  motive,  is 
abundantly  proved,  we  contend,  not  only  by  his  own 
words  and  deeds,  but  also  by  the  character  and  lives 
of  his  descendants. 

Third  in  the  series  from  Thomas  Fuller  was  Rev. 
Timothy  Fuller,  who  graduated  from  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1760,  and  was  ordained  in  1767,  the  first 
settled  minister  of  Princeton,  Massachusetts,  and,  ulti- 
mately having  moved  to  Merrimack,  N.  H.,  almost 
exclusively  applied  himself  to  agriculture,  and  the 
training  of  his  five  sons,  all  of  whom  became  lawyers, 
with  no  schooling,  before  their  college  days,  except  the 
home  teaching.*  In  Princeton,  he  was  the  proprietor 

*  These  sons  were  Timothy  Fuller  (to  be  more  particularly  mentioned), 
Abraham  Williams  Fuller,  Henry  Holton  Fuller,  William  Williams  Fuller, 
and  Elisha  Fuller;  of  whom  a  brief  account  may  be  found  in  Historical 


LINEAGE.  7 

of  the  blue  Wachusett,  assigned  to  him  as  the  parish 
farm,  —  a  tract  well  able  to  "  carry  forests  on  its 
back,"  yet  fitted  to  bear  little  else. 

A  descendant  thus  seeks  to  account  for  the  parish 
grant  to  the  parson  being  located  upon  this  mountain, 

Bestowed  by  his  society, 

To  ear  from  thence  his  salary : 

For  ministers,  not  then,  as  now, 

Used  brains,  without  the  sweating  brow. 

Why  his  good  people  gave  the  mount, 

And  kept  the  vale,  we  've  no  account. 

Notices  of  Thomas  Fuller  and  his  Descendants,  above  referred  to.  They 
have  all  been  gathered  to  their  fathers'^  On  the  decease  of  Henry,  in  Sep- 
tember, 1852,  an  eloquent  tribute  was  paid  to  his  memory  by  Hon.  Charles 
G.  Loring,  in  presenting  to  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  the  resolutions  of 
the  Bar  on  that  occasion ;  to  which  there  was  a  feeling  response  from  Mr. 
Justice  Fletcher.  We  should  delight  to  dwell  longer  upon  this  nucleus  of 
five  legal  brothers,  were  it  not  aside  from  our  present  purpose. 

Besides  the  five  sons,  there  were  five  daughters,  who  survived  Rev. 
Timothy  Fuller.  From  the  time  of  his  death,  on  the  third  day  of  July, 
1805,  till  the  death  of  his  son  Timothy,  on  the  first  day  of  October,  1835, 
a  period  of  full  thirty  years,  that  family  circle  of  brothers  and  sisters  re- 
mained unbroken.  Now  all  have  passed  away,  except  Mrs.  Deborah  Allen 
Belcher,  of  Farmington,  Maine,  who,  though  for  many  years  a  widow, 
still  enjoys  a  green  old  age,  honored  and  beloved  by  children  and  grand- 
children. 

These  ten  children  were  much  attached  to  each  other,  as  well  as  to  their 
parents,  while  living,  and  their  memory  when  departed.  Mr.  Loring,  in 
his  address  to  the  court  on  the  death  of  Henry,  before  referred  to,  gives  a 
touching  picture  of  the  ten  children  of  Rev.  Timothy  Fuller,  who,  some 
quarter  of  a  century  after  he  had  gone  to  his  rest,  and  long  after  the  family 
dwelling  in  Princeton  had  passed  away,  visited  its  site  together.  Nothing 
remained  but  its  cellar,  which  time  had  partially  filled,  whose  rounded 
excavation  it  had  carpeted  with  greensward.  Here  the  children  gathered, 
and,  seated  in  the  charmed  circle  of  what  was  once  their  home,  sang  again 
together  the  sweet  hymns  to  which  their  tongues  had  been  attuned  in 
childhood,  by  their  faithful  parents,  in  the  dearly  loved  home  which  had 
once  rested  upon  that  spot.  They  did  not  visit  it  again,  in  concert;  and 
many  of  them  sought  it  no  more.  Death,  in  a  few  years,  broke  that  cir- 
cle ;  and  one  after  another  they  went,  in  quick  succession,  the  way  of  all 
living. 


8  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

But  little  produce,  almost  none 
Could  on  the  lofty  hill  be  grown. 
Yet,  to  conjecture,  charity 
Forbids  that  this  the  cause  could  be. 
He  was  a  pastor,  —  and,  their  sheep 
,  Shepherds  upon  the  mountains  keep : 

Or,  that  he  might,  like  Moses,  stand, 
To  look  upon  the  promised  land, 
And,  with  uplifted  thought,  behold 
The  wonders  of  the  heaven  unfold ; 
While,  still,  upon  his  parish  sheep 
•T  were  easy  half  an  eye  to  keep ; 
As  they  the  fertile  valley  till, 
Spread  out  beneath  the  lofty  hill ! 

Rev.  Timothy  Fuller  represented  Princeton  in  the 
Convention  of  Massachusetts  which  voted  to  approve 
and  accept  the  Federal  Constitution.  Being  totally 
opposed  to  slavery,  he  voted  against  that  instrument, 
on  account  of  the  insidious  clause  providing  for  the 
rendition  of  fugitives  from  service.  This  negative  vote 
is  claimed  by  his  descendants  for  an  hereditary  honor ; 
manifesting,  as  it  does,  that  aversion  to  oppression 
which  has  characterized  more  than  one  of  the  family, 
and  taking  a  first  step  in  that  antislavery  path  which 
descendants  have  followed  on.  In  the  light  of  recent 
history,  may  we  not  be  led  to  believe  that  it  would 
have  been  better  for  this  nation  had  it,  while  in  its 
cradle,  strangled'  the  little  serpent  of  slavery,  so 
cunningly  insinuated  into  our  Constitution,  before  it 
grew  to  the  monstrum  horrendum,  informe,  ingens,  cui 
lumen  ademptum,  like  the  baleful  dragon  of  the  Apoc- 
alypse. 

This  antislavery  origin  was  duplicated,  in  1770,  by 
the  marriage  of  Rev.  Timothy  Fuller  to  Sarah  Wil- 
liams, daughter  of  Rev.  Abraham  Williams,  of  Sand- 


LINEAGE.  9 

wich,  Massachusetts.  He  married  Anna  Buckminster, 
a  near  relative  of  the  distinguished  clergyman,  whom 
Choate  aptly  styles  •'  the  glorious  Buckminster,"  and 
whose  useful  and  brilliant  career,  brought  to  an  un- 
timely close,  has  been  commemorated  by  his  distin- 
guished contemporary,  Dr.  Channing.*  The  honor 
of  this  family  connection  was  the  occasion  of  bestow- 
ing the  name  of  Buckminster,  as  the  middle  bap- 
tismal name  of  the  subject  of  this  memoir. 

The  eldest  son  of  Rev.  Timothy  Fuller,  bearing  his 
father's  name,  graduated  from  Harvard  University  in 
1801,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  with  the  second 
honors ;  having  his  only  preparatory  training  in  the 
home  school,  when,  pari  passu  with  Latin  and  Greek, 
he  acquired  those  habits  of  industry  and  endurance, 
which,  even  more  than  learning  and  talent,  form  the 
sure  capital  of  success  in  life.  His  high  college  rank 
was  the  more  creditable,  that  he  was  obliged  to  defray 
his  expenses  by  teaching  school  in  the  vacations,  and 
even  during  a  part  of  the  term,  —  an  episode,  which 
not  only  encroached  upon  his  time,  but  also  tasked  the 
energies  he  would  have  been  glad  to  apply  solely  to 
the  pursuits  of  a  college  student.  He  himself  thought 
he  should  have  borne  off  the  first  honors,  had  he  not 
felt  obliged  to  take  an  influential  part  in  a  college  re- 
bellion, which  he  regarded  as  justified  and  called  for 
by  the  students'  grievances.  He  was  admitted  to  the 

*  Buckminster,  as  a  child,  was  a  precocious  and  eager  reader.  It  is  re- 
lated that  he  was,  one  day,  intent  on  reading  in  a  room  by  himself,  leaning 
against  the  mantel.  He  remained  in  this  posture,  entirely  absorbed,  for 
several  hours,  till  he  fainted  from  exhaustion ;  and  the  family  hearing  him 
fall,  rushed  in  to  find  him  on  the  floor  in  a  swoon. 
1* 


10  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

bar,  after  the  usual  term  of  preparatory  study,  and 
for  many  years  had  his  office  in  Boston. 

Timothy  Fuller  rapidly  rose  to  distinction  at  the 
bar,  being  noted  for  close  reasoning  and  high  profes- 
sional character.  He  joyfully  devoted  the  first-fruits 
of  professional  success  on  the  altar  of  family  love, 
faithfully  assisting  his  younger  brothers  in  their  strug- 
gles to  obtain  an  education.  He  took  Henry  into 
partnership,  —  a  favor  he  repaid  years  afterwards  by 
conferring  the  same  advantage  upon  Timothy's  son, 
Richard.  He  was  especially  kind  to  those  in  humble 
circumstances,  and  readily  espoused  their  cause  in  the 
forum  for  a  small  compensation,  and  often  at  the  risk 
of  receiving  none. 

He  had  a  natural  fluency  and  facility  in  extempore 
speaking,  in  which  he  was  semper  paratus,  and  more 
successful  than  in  the  labors  of  the  pen.  This  afforded 
him  ready  entrance,  and  of  itself  almost  drew  him 
to  political  life.  His  moral  and  religious  nature  and 
characteristic  benevolence  led  him  to  embrace  the 
principles  of  republican  democracy,  whose  mission  he 
believed  to  be  the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge, 
the  elevation  of  the  humble,  the  political  equality  of 
all  races  and  conditions  of  men,  and  human  brother- 
hood, as  announced  in  the  sublime  epitome  of  the 
American  Declaration  of  Independence.  He  was  a 
member  of  the  Massachusetts  Senate  from  1813  to 
1816,  a  Representative  in  Congress  from  1817  to 
1825,  Speaker  of  the  Massachusetts  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives in  1825,  and  a  member  of  the  Executive 
Council  in  1828. 

He  is  still  remembered  as  chairman  of  the  Com- 


LINEAGE.  11 

mittee  on  Naval  Affairs  in  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives of  the  United  States,  having  the  good  fortune 
to  perform  the  duties  of  that  position  in  a  manner 
acceptable  to  the  naval  service,  as  well  as  to  the  gen- 
eral advantage.  His  heart  echoed  the  lament  of  the 
Seminole  Indians,  forcibly  expatriated  from  their  na- 
tive hunting-grounds,  and  carried  far  away  toward 
the  setting  sun.  His  long  and  elaborate  speech  in 
their  behalf,  which  may  be  read  in  the  records  of 
the  debates  of  the  House  upon  that  interesting  topic, 
produced  a  marked  impression,  but  could  not  stay 
that  career  of  national  wrong  to  the  weaker  races 
scandalously  denominated  "  manifest  destiny,"  the  re- 
tributive penalty  for  which  Providence  seems  now  vis- 
iting upon  us  in  the  bloody  scourge  of  civil  war. 

He  also  made  a  strong  speech  in  opposition  to  the 
Missouri  Compromise,  maintaining  that  not  an  inch  of 
territory  should  be  left  to  the  blighting  influence  of 
slavery.  He  thought  that,  while  conflicting  interests 
were  a  fair  subject  of  compromise,  principles  of  eternal 
justice  never  were.  In  yielding  material  interests  by 
compromise,  man  is  giving  away  what  is  his  own ; 
but  in  compromising  the  principles  of  justice,  he  is 
daring  to  give  up  something  of  those  sacred  claims 
of  right  which  do  not  belong  to  man,  and  cannot 
be  in  any  measure  relinquished  without  robbing  God. 
To  say  that  we  avoid  a  greater  evil  by  sanctioning  a 
smaller  one,  he  regarded  as  a  reflection  upon  the  rule 
of  human  conduct  laid  down  by  the  Almighty,  re- 
quiring us  to  do  right  and  leave  the  consequences  to 
him.  History  has  proved  that  all  the  compromises 
with  slavery  were  really  the  onward  marches  of  its 


12         .  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

encroaching  waves,  thus  gathering  volume  and  mo- 
mentum perfidiously  to  sweep  over  the  barriers  of 
"  thus  far  and  no  farther,"  submitted  to  by  the  slave 
power  as  only  a  temporary  expedient  and  means  of 
fraud.  He  was  also  influential  in  the  election  of  John 
Quincy  Adams  to  the  Presidency.  A  pamphlet,  pub- 
lished by  him,  entitled  "  The  Election  for  the  Presi- 
dency considered,"  had  a  wide  circulation. 

Timothy  Fuller  was  a  religious  man.  While  in 
college,  he  sedulously  examined  the  evidences  of 
Christianity,  and  reached,  by  patient  research,  a  de- 
liberate conviction  of  its  truth,  which  could  never 
afterwards  be  shaken.  He  at  once  joined  himself  to 
the  Church,  of  which  he  remained  a  life-long  member 
and  a  careful  observer  of  its  sacred  ceremonies.  He 
attended  divine  worship  constantly  with  his  family, 
and  regularly  ministered  at  the  home  altar  in  the 
"  church,  which  was  in  his  own  house."  Nor  could 
he  be  induced,  under  any  pretext,  to  perform  sec- 
ular business  on  the  Sabbath.  When  he  first  went 
to  Washington,  he  purchased  a  new  Bible,  known  in 
the  family  as  his  "  Washington  Bible."  He  marked 
in  it  the  twentieth  verse  of  the  forty-ninth  Psalm,  — 
"  Man  that  is  in  honor,  and  understandeth  not,  is  like 
the  beasts  that  perish."  Early  in  his  professional 
career  he  cherished  a  project  of  becoming  a  preacher, 
but  desired  to  first  secure  a  maintenance,  that  he  might 
discharge  the  duties  of  the  sacred  office  with  entire 
independence. 

In  1809,  he  made  a  happy  alliance  in  marriage  with 
Margaret  Crane,  daughter  of  Major  Peter  Crane,  of 
Canton,  Massachusetts.  The  father  served  in  the 


LINEAGE.  13 

Revolutionary  war.     He   acted  as   chaplain,   at   one 
time,  of  his  regiment  in  the  army. 

Margaret  may  be  truthfully  styled  a  "  good  match  " 
for  her  husband,  for  her  character  was  the  comple- 
ment of  his,  and  each  had  prominent  traits  where 
those  of  the  other  were  deficient.  Thus,  while  he 
dealt  in  reason,  and  approached  all  subjects  intellectu- 
ally, her  sphere  was  the  fancy  and  imagination.  His 
tastes  were  for  the  practical  and  useful ;  hers  for  the  *• 
ideal  and  beautiful.  Each  yielded  to  the  wishes  of 
the  other.  She  leaned  on  him  for  views  and  opinions, 
discerning  his  judgment  and  implicitly  trusting  his 
results  ;  and  he  was  careful  to  gratify  her  aesthetic 
tastes.  Her  ideality  had  taken  especially  the  direc- 
tion of  flowers,  and  he  provided  for  her  an  extensive 
garden,  though,  for  sport,  he  insisted  on  his  own 
bed  of  dandelions  and  marigolds,  which,  he  laugh- 
ingly insisted,  far  exceeded  her  exotics  in  real  beauty 
and  value.  In  temperament,  too,  they  were  admi- 
rably matched.  He,  always  industrious  and  over- 
worked, needed  the  elastic  influence  of  her  buoyant 
and  exuberant  spirits.  With  their  diversity  of  traits, 
they  had  the  oneness  of  aspiration  and  aim  which  is 
needed  happily  to  cement  the  marriage  union.  Both 
were  pious ;  —  he  especially  in  the  department  of  judg- 
ment and  principle ;  she,  in  that  of  religious  emotion 
and  affection.  Both  loved  children  and  home  ;  —  he, 
careful  to  provide,  solicitous  to  develop  and  stimulate 
his  children,  and  always  anxiously  reaching  forward  to- 
ward their  future  ;  she,  a  sunbeam  of  solace  and  cheer, 
a  tender  mother  to  soothe  each  childish  grief  and  to 
shed  a  radiance  over  the  present  hour.  She  did  not 


14  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

love  the  children  more  than  he ;  but  they  appreciated 
her  love  at  once,  while  justice  to  his  was  deferred  till 
the  retrospect  of  riper  years.  He  was  not,  however, 
by  any  means  a  stern  parent.  He  gave  each  night 
a  touching  proof  of  his  fatherly  tenderness,  by  visiting 
the  couch  where  the  children  had  sunk  to  rest,  and 
pressing  a  kiss  upon  their  unconscious  lips. 

Soon  after  his  marriage,  he  purchased,  for  a  resi- 
dence, a  large  dwelling-house  situated  upon  Cherry 
Street,  Cambridge  Port.  In  this  mansion,  which  the 
children  called  "  the  Home  House,"  were  born  Sarah 
Margaret,  Julia  Adelaide,  Eugene,  William  Henry, 
Ellen  Kilshaw,  Arthur  Buckminster,  and  Richard 
Frederick.  Julia  Adelaide  died  in  infancy  ;  and  all 
have  now  passed  from  the  stage  of  mortal  life,  except 
William  and  Richard.  On  the  year  of  the  birth  of 
Margaret,  her  father  set  out  a  row  of  elm-trees  in 
front  of  the  residence  ;  which  may  still  be  seen,  of 
a  large  growth,  stationed,  like  huge  sentinels,  before 
the  mansion.  But,  alas !  they  protect  no  longer  the 
family  who  first  set  them  there,  and  resorted  for  a 
while  to  their  increasing  shade. 

Mr.  Fuller  first  sought  Cambridge  as  a  residence, 
in  order  to  withdraw  as  much  as  possible  from  the 
contagion  of  an  epidemic,  then  raging  in  Boston  ;  and 
he  never  afterwards  resided  in  the  city. 


CHAPTER    II. 

CHILDHOOD. 

«  The  child  is  father  of  the  man.  " 

iRTHUR  BUCKMINSTER  FULLER  was 

born  in  Cambridge  Port,  Massachusetts,  on 
the  tenth  day  of  August,  1822.  Here  he 
was  nurtured,  till  the  family  removed,  when 
he  was  about  five  years  of  age,  to  a  mansion  in  Old 
Cambridge,  which  his  father  purchased  of  Chief 
Justice  Dana.  It  was  situated  upon  high  land,  near 
the  Colleges,  still  called,  from  its  original  proprietor, 
"  Dana  Hill." 

The  family  were  much  attached  to  the  dwelling  in 
Cambridge  Port,  styled  the  "  Home  House  "  ;  though 
its  attractions  were  chiefly  intrinsic,  consisting  of  the 
sunshine  of  family  love  and  the  charm  of  the  birth- 
place. It  boasted,  however,  a  beautiful  garden,  se- 
cluded by  a  high,  close  fence,  and  decorated  with 
trees,  vines,  and  flowers.  At  its  western  extremity  was 
a  gate,  always  locked,  behind  which  the  sun  set  in 
glory  ;  stimulating  by  its  mystery  the  children's  fancy, 
to  imagine,  that,  if  opened,  it  would  admit  to  a  bright- 
er land.*  The  prospect  from  the  mansion  windows 

*  See  Memoirs  of  Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli. 


16  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

needed  to  be  looked  at  through  the  medium  of  ardent 
love  of  home,  to  be  attractive  or  tolerable.  It  con- 
sisted of  salt  marsh,  unreclaimed  as  jet,  or  made  land, 
occupied  by  dwelling-houses,  interspersed  with  several 
laboratories  of  the  useful  arts.  Arthur's  mother  used 
laughingly  to  relate,  that,  on  the  day  of  removal,  he 
gazed  wistfully  his  farewell  look  at  the  loved  scene, 
sighing,  "  O,  I  shall  not  see  the  soap  'urks  any 
more ! " 

In  Margaret  Fuller's  Unpublished  Works,*  we  find 
the  following  reference  to  the  Cambridge  Port  resi- 
dence. She  had  just  returned,  at  the  time  of  writ- 
ing, from  a  tour  among  the  mountains.  She  says : 
"  I  feel  satisfied,  as  I  thought  I  should,  with  reading 
these  bolder  lines  in  the  manuscript  of  Nature. 
Merely  gentle  and  winning  scenes  are  not  enough  for 
me.  I  wish  my  lot  had  been  cast  amid  the  sources 
of  the  streams,  where  the  voice  of  the  hidden  tor- 
rent is  heard  by  night,  where  the  eagle  soars,  and 
the  thunder  resounds  in  long  peals  from  side  to  side, 
where  the  grasp  of  a  more  powerful  emotion  has  rent 
asunder  the  rocks,  and  the  long  purple  shadows  fall, 
like  a  broad  wing  upon  the  valley.  All  places,  I 
know,  like  all  persons,  have  beauty,  which  may  be 
discovered  by  a  thoughtful  and  observing  mind;  but 
only  in  some  scenes,  and  with  some  persons,  can  I  ex- 
pand and  feel  myself  at  home.  I  realize  this  all  the 
more  for  having  passed  all  my  childhood  in  such  a 
place  as  Cambridge  Port.  There  I  had  nothing,  ex- 
cept the  little  flower-garden  behind  the  house,  and 
the  elms  before  the  door.  I  used  to  long  and  pine 

*  MS.  Vol.  n.  p.  711. 


CHILDHOOD.  17 

for  beautiful  places,  such  as  I  read  of.  There  was 
not  one  walk  for  me,  except  over  the  bridge.  I  liked 
that  very  much  ;  pleasing  myself  with  the  river,  the 
lovely  undulating  line  on  every  side,  and  the  light 
smokes  which  were  seen  in  certain  states  of  the 
weather." 

Dana  Hill  was  altogether  a  different  spot.  In  the 
rapid  growth  of  Boston  and  its  suburbs,  a  few  years 
have  made  dwellings  to  cluster  on  the  site.  But  then 
its  fair  area  was  almost  unoccupied  save  by  the  central 
mansion,  whose  casements,  like  the  eyes  of  Argus, 
looked  upon  the  green,  flowery  hills  of  Brookline  and 
Brighton,  and  the  glimmer  of  the  intervening  Charles 
River,  dyed  with  the  crimson  glories  of  the  sunset, 
or  bright,  in  turn,  with  the  bending  azure  of  day  and 
the  silver  lamps  of  night.  From  the  house,  a  long 
avenue  conducted  to  the  road,  lined  with  the  blooming 
borders,  where  the  mother's  flowery  retainers  arrayed 
themselves,  paying  their  tribute  of  beauty  and  fra- 
grance, in  return  for  assiduous  protection  and  cul- 
ture. In  the  lawn,  on  either  hand,  were  fruit  and 
ornamental  trees ;  while,  more  in  the  background, 
like  a  reserve,  was  another  garden  of  fruit  and 
flowers. 

Here  Arthur's  family  resided  for  six  prosperous 
years;  while  the  younger  children  attended  several 
private  schools.  One  of  these  has  a  conspicuous  place 
in  memory,  owing  to  the  regime  of  its  lady  teacher. 
The  birch  was  her  sceptre ;  and,  lest  one  should  be 
weakened  in  its  sway,  she  kept  a  bundle  of  them  on 
hand.  These  she  required  the  boys  to  procure  for 
her ;  and  woe  to  them,  if  they  brought  her  other  than 


18  CHAPLALN  FULLER. 

long,  straight,  and  vigorous  twigs !  She  indulged  in 
a  feline  diversion,  when  her  quick  eye  could  detect 
a  boy  engaged  in  the  proscribed  occupation  known 
as  "wool-gathering."  Watching  her  occasion,  and 
creeping  noiselessly  behind,  she  dispelled  the  day- 
dream with  a  smart  stroke  from  her  birch  wand. 
What  an  awakening  was  that!  what  a  cruel  return 
from  illusion  to  reality !  It  may  be  adduced,  as  an 
instance  of  natural  depravity,  that  the  other  urchins 
sympathized  with  the  teacher  in  this  pursuit,  and 
eagerly  watched  her  well-conceived  project  of  sur- 
prise, wishing  it  success,  though  themselves  liable  to 
be  made  the  next  victims ;  and  when  the  rod  made 
its  successful  and  sudden  descent,  the  feat  was  greeted 
with  a  suppressed  applause,  which  the  exclamation  of 
the  culprit  and  the  startled  expression  of  his  coun- 
tenance by  no  means  served  to  diminish. 

On  the  elevation  of  John  Quincy  Adams  to  the 
White  House,  Arthur's  father  expected  a  mission  to 
Europe,  as  a  token  of  the  appreciation  of  his  influen- 
tial labors  on  behalf  of  the  successful  candidate.  But 
the  President  did  not  "  remember  Joseph."  In  this 
expectation,  his  daughter  Margaret  had  been  encour- 
aged to  look  eagerly  forward  to  visiting  that  Europe 
in  whose  literature  she  had  become  so  well  versed. 
Both  were  destined  to  disappointment.  This  check 
may  have  contributed  to  induce  the  father  to  seek 
a  more  retired  sphere  of  life.  But  there  were  other 
motives.  He  had  been  long  gathering  materials 
for  a  history  of  his  country,  which  he  purposed  as  the 
crowning  labor  of  his  life.  He  had,  besides,  a  view 
to  the  education  of  his  children.  Attributing  his  own 


CHILDHOOD.  19 

success  in  a  great  measure  to  the  endurance  and  in- 
dustry acquired  by  an  early  experience  in  the  toils 
of  agriculture,  he  desired  to  subject  his  boys  to  the 
same  hardening  process.  Not  a  little  influence,  too, 
may  have  been  exerted  upon  him  by  the  romantic 
retrospect  of  the  afternoon  of  life  upon  boyhood's 
morning,  in  drawing  his  heart  toward  those  New 
Hampshire  hills,  whose  blue  walls  enclosed  its  horizon ; 
feeling,  — 

" as  in  a  pensive  dream, 

When  all  his  active  powers  are  still, 
A  distant  dearness  in  the  hill, 
A  secret  sweetness  in  the  stream." 

Induced  by  such  motives,  Arthur's  father  sold  his 
residence  in  Cambridge,  and  occupied  the  house  of 
his  brother  Abraham,  on  Brattle  Street,  in  Cambridge, 
for  one  year,  while  casting  about  him  for  a  new  loca- 
tion. While  living  here,  an  accident  occurred  to 
Arthur  and  his  younger  brother,  in  celebrating  the 
glorious  Fourth,  after  the  manner  of  independent 
boys.  Arthur  early  manifested  an  enthusiasm  for  the 
observance  of  this  birthday  of  our  liberty,  with  mimic 
artillery  and  banner,  which  is  thus  pleasantly  alluded 
to  by  his  sister  Margaret :  "  '  I  'm  independent ! '  as 
Arthur  shouted  and  waved  his  flag ;  when  Eugene 
cruelly  stopped  him,  and  made  him  come  in  to  learn 
his  lesson."  *  His  enthusiasm  was  more  seriously  in- 
terrupted on  the  occasion  of  the  accident  referred  to. 
The  boys  had  several  times  discharged  a  little  cannon, 
running  with  shouts  into  the  cloud  of  smoke,  when 
it  was  inadvertently  aimed  at  the  box  of  powder, 

*  Unpublished  Works,  Vol.  II.  p.  823. 


20  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

which  ignited  with  a  fearful  explosion,  prostrating 
both  children,  and  so  burning  them  as  to  confine  them 
for  several  days  to  their  bed. 

The  new  family  residence  was  in  Groton,  Massa- 
chusetts, a  prosperous  town  of  Middlesex  County,  dis- 
tant some  thirty  miles  from  Boston,  and  at  that  time 
principally  devoted  to  agriculture.*  The  house  and 
grounds  had  been  fitted  up  with  much  care  and  ex- 
pense by  Samuel  Dana,  a  Judge  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas.  The  white  mansion,  situated  upon 
a  gradual  eminence,  looked  complacently  upon  the 
blue  Wachusett,  Monadnock,  and  Peterborough  Hills. 
It  was  quite  attractive  to  childish  eyes,  its  ample  front 
bathed  in  the  sunlight,  seeming,  on  approach,  to  ex- 
pand into  a  smile  of  welcome.  Alas !  we  little  antici- 
pated, as  we  crossed  its  threshold,  the  bitter  cup  of 
family  sorrows  we  were  to  drink  there  !  Yet  that 
discipline  was  not  without  a  beneficent  compensation 
for  those  who  submissively  acknowledged  that  God 
"in  faithfulness  afflicted  them." 

Here  opened  a  new  field  of  activity  for  all  the 
family.  The  father  applied  himself  to  superintending 
the  husbandry  of  fifty  acres,  and  making  alterations 
and  additions  to  the  buildings.  Nor  did  he  wholly 
decline  the  professional  avocations  which  still  sought 
him  out  in  his  retirement,  and  led  him  again  occa- 
sionally into  the  forum.  He  also  gave  some  hours 
to  his  projected  history,  and  applied  himself  especially 
to  the  training  of  his  children.  In  the  last-named 
department  he  was  careful  to  form  the  children  to 

*  Caleb  Butler,  Esq.  has  composed  and  published  a  careful  history  of 
Groton,  containing  many  interesting  facts. 


CHILDHOOD.  21 

habits  of  early  rising,  promptness  in  action,  industry, 
and  concentration  upon  the  matter  in  hand.  Regu- 
larly were  they  summoned  in  the  morning  ;  and  there 
was  no  more  "  folding  of  the  hands  in  sleep."  They 
were  obliged  to  respond  at  once  with  their  feet  strik- 
ing the  floor.  It  happened  that  the  butcher  usually 
drove  into  the  yard  at  the  same  time  ;  and  the  rum- 
bling of  his  chariot,  as  it  broke  upon  the  dream-land, 
and  seemed  to  suggest  the  father's  call,  serving  as  its 
unwelcome  prelude,  made  the  useful  vender  of  meats 
unpopular  with  the  boys. 

The  observance  of  the  Lord's  day  he  regarded 
as  of  the  first  importance,  and  strictly  enjoined  it  upon 
his  children  as  he  did  also  a  reverential  regard  for 
the  public  Fasts  and  Thanksgivings,  instituted  by  our 
pious  Pilgrim  fathers.  The  church  edifice  stamped 
its  picture  on  the  children's  memory.  Arthur  thus 
alludes  to  it  in  his  remarks  at  the  public  dinner  on  the 
Bicentennial  Anniversary  of  Groton  :  "  I  remember 
the  ancient  church,  then  unchanged  by  the  hand  of 
modern  improvement.  I  can  see  to-day  those  old- 
fashioned  pews,  so  high  that  only  by  a  peep  through 
the  rounds  which  ornamented  their  tops  could  I  dis- 
cern the  faces  of  youthful  comrades ;  and  there  seems 
yet  to  echo  in  my  ear  the  hearty  slam  with  which 
the  pew  seats,  raised  during  the  prayer,  descended 
in  a  rude  chorus  of  accompaniment  at  the  signal  of 
the  minister's  '  Amen  ! '  —  a  not  unwelcome  word, 
I  fear,  to  undevout  children  of  that  day  or  this." 
Quite  as  impressive  to  the  youthful  mind  was  the 
high  pulpit,  ascended  by  a  winding  stair,  on  whose 
dizzy  elevation  the  preacher  was  just  visible,  emerging 


22  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

from  the  damask  cushion  toto  vertice  supra.  What 
lent  a  great  interest  to  the  minister  in  the  childish 
view,  was  his  apparently  critical  position  of  immi- 
nent peril  from  the  huge  hemispheral  sounding-board 
suspended  by  a  frail  tenure  above  his  head.  There 
was  nothing  to  indicate  to  the  child's  speculation  that 
this  massive  superstructure  was  hollow,  and  therefore 
adequately  secured  by  the  apex  fixed  to  the  ceiling.* 
Noteworthy  also  was  the  psalmody,  especially  the 
agonized  moment  when  the  strangely  assorted  instru- 
ments strove  to  take  the  pitch.  The  individuality  of 
the  surly  bass-viol  and  the  intensely  strung  fiddle  was 
never  lost  in  their  assembled  harmony.  Alas  !  the 
glory  of  those  orchestras  has  forever  passed  away ! 

In  family  government,  Timothy  Fuller  did  not 
wholly  dispense  with  the  rod,  though  we  recall  but 
one  instance  when  Arthur  was  made  the  subject  of  it. 
That  occasion  is  well  remembered,  because,  from  par- 
ticipation in  the  punishment,  it  made  a  marked  im- 
pression both  upon  the  back  and  mind.  Arthur  and 
Richard  (by  two  years  his  younger  brother)  had  been 
quarrelling,  in  that  unmalicious,  but  bearish  brotherly 
style  paternally  denominated  "squabbling."  Smart- 
ing with  reciprocal  wrongs,  they  resorted  to  the  legal 
father  as  the  fountain  of  family  justice,  each  prefer- 
ring his  complaint.  They  did  not  fail  to  obtain  what 
Molie're's  Scapin  so  little  relished, — justice :  but,  though 
no  reproach  could  be  cast  upon  the  unsullied  ermine 
of  the  family  judge,  yet  the  result  of  the  cause  dis- 
couraged them  from  afterward  submitting  their  griev- 

*  A  witty  clergyman  compared  these  old-fashioned  pulpits  to  a  hogshead, 
with  the  minister  speaking  out  of  the  bunghole. 


CHILDHOOD.  23 

ances  to  the  same  tribunal.  Hardly  were  the  pleadings 
in,  when  the  proceedings  began  to  assume  an  ominous 
aspect.  The  father  proposed  to  adjourn  to  his  cham- 
ber, as  affording  a  better  opportunity  to  sift  the  mat- 
ter. Among  the  family  effects  was  a  certain  black 
riding-stick,  with  which  the  children,  in  their  eqiies- 
trian  efforts,  were  wont  to  invigorate  the  energies  of 
the  tardy  family  steed,  known  as  "  old  Charley." 
The  father  accompanied  his  proposition  to  adjourn  to 
the  chamber  by  the  assumption  of  this  stick,  which 
may  have  resembled  the  black  rod  of  Parliament. 
This  significant  act  justified  the  apprehension  that 
the  case  would  have  an  unpleasant  issue  for  one  or 
the  other  litigant,  and,  before  the  die  was  cast  deter- 
mining which,  the  rod  cast  an  unpleasant  shadow  upon 
both.  The  boys  felt  some  disposition  to  withdraw, 
for  a  settlement  in  pais.  But  galeatum  sero  duetti 
pcenitet.  In  other  words,  the  locus  pcenitenticR  was 
reserved  for  a  later  stage  of  the  proceedings. 

Arrived  at  the  chamber,  the  parental  judge  directed 
Arthur,  as  the  eldest,  to  open  the  case.  In  vain 
Richard  attempted  to  break  in,  with  an  indignant 
protest  against  the  allegations  and  arguments.  The 
court  calmly  but  firmly  enjoined  silence  upon  him  till 
Arthur  had  first  fully  enjoyed  his  constitutional  right 
to  be  heard.  When  his  breath  or  narrative  had  given 
out,  the  signal  was  made  for  Richard's  wordy  onset. 
Arthur,  in  his  turn,  was  thwarted  in  eager  attempts 
to  interrupt  the  younger  advocate.  When  both  sides 
had  been  duly  heard,  the  court,  with  no  dilatory  curia 
advisare  vult,  proceeded  forthwith  to  deliver  a  some- 
what elaborate  judgment,  reviewing  the  variances  as 


24  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

well  as  coincidences  in  the  statements  of  each  side, 
and  drawing  from  the  latter  the  inference  that  both 
were  to  blame  ;  concluding  with  the  sentence  that 
the  boys  should  take  off  their  jackets,  in  order  that 
the  black  rod  might  be  more  closely  applied  to  their 
backs.  As  the  father  assured  them  that  the  infliction 
would  pain  him  much  more  than  them,  they  indulged 
the  hope  of  a  light  chastisement;  in  which,  as  in 
speaking,  Arthur,  from  priority  of  age,  had  the  first 
lot.  This  expectation  proved  illusory ;  for,  though 
the  whipping  was  calm  and  deliberate,  it  was  emi- 
nently thorough  ;  nor  did  he  "  spare  the  child  for  his 
crying." 

Another  illustration  of  home  government  was  fur- 
nished soon  after  the  removal  to  Groton.  It  was 
early  summer,  the  skies  blue  and  bright,  the  breezes 
grateful,  and  the  birds  melodious.  How  dull  and 
dingy  the  school-room  in  comparison !  Out-of-door 
laborers  seemed  to  enjoy  a  comparative  holiday  to 
Arthur,  who  had  thus  far  only  applied  himself  to 
work  when  so  inclined,  for  variety,  and  had  no  con- 
ception of  the  labor  improbus  which  omnia  vincit.  He 
also  persuaded  Richard  to  be  of  the  same  mind ;  and 
they  both  besieged  father  and  mother  with  entreaties 
to  allow  them  to  work  instead  of  study.  The  father 
held  out  long  against  them,  assuring  them  that  they 
would  soon  find  labor  very  irksome,  and  wish  to  return 
to  study  again.  But  no !  they  were  sure  they  should 
enjoy  labor  in  the  free  air  better  than  the  pent-up 
toil  of  the  school,  in  the  beautiful  season  which  lured 
all  creatures  forth.  He  advised  them  to  try  the  ex- 
periment, before  a  final  choice,  offering  to  let  them 


CHILDHOOD.  25 

work  for  a  few  days  on  trial,  and  to  continue  it  or 
return  to  school,  according  as  they  should  find  most 
agreeable.  But  they  were  so  sure  they  should  like 
work,  that  they  preferred  to  sever  the  school  tie,  and 
make  choice  of  it  at  once.  The  father,  having  warned 
them  that,  if  they  made  this  election,  it  would  not 
be  revocable,  thought  it  would  be  a  good  lesson  for 
them  to  have  their  own  way. 

Great  was  their  delight  in  getting  rid  of  school ; 
and  for  the  first  half-day  they  exulted  in  their  choice. 
But  presently  blisters  and  fatigue  came,  and  they 
began  to  waver.  They  held  out  for  a  time,  ashamed 
to  admit  their  folly,  but  gradually  gave  way ;  and 
then  they  pleaded  for  leave  to  go  back  to  school. 
This  the  father  firmly  declined.  The  boys  fretted 
and  murmured,  but  failed  to  move  the  father.  As 
a  last  resort,  they  fled  from  the  work  one  day,  and 
ran  to  entreat  their  mother,  throwing  themselves 
upon  the  floor,  and  bewailing  their  sad  fate.  The 
mother  was  much  moved,  and  soon  joined  her  en- 
treaties with  theirs  to  bring  over  the  father,  who 
had  followed  the  boys,  and  stood  a  calm  spectator 
of  the  scene.  He  replied,  that  to  yield  would  have 
a  very  bad  influence  upon  the  boys ;  that  they  had 
chosen  to  rush  into  the  difficulty,  despite  of  coun- 
sel and  warning,  and  ought  now  to  bear  the  conse- 
quences of  such  conduct,  as  they  would  have  to  on 
the  stage  of  life,  for  which  they  were  training ;  that 
they  had  entered  into  a  fair  and  deliberate  engage- 
ment, and  ought  not  to  wish  nor  to  be  permitted  to 
violate  it.  The  adamantine  statue  of  Themis  would 
have  swerved  as  soon  as  he ;  and  so  back  the  boys- 
2 


26  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

had  to  go  to  their  inglorious  toil.  That  lesson  was 
not  forgotten. 

Yet  the  father  did  not  bear  too  hardly  upon  the 
boys,  nor  require  them  to  work  too  many  hours.  He 
carefully  watched  their  powers  of  endurance,  and 
imposed  no  task  upon  them  which  might  trench  upon 
the  elasticity  of  childhood.  He  furnished  them  suit- 
able opportunities  for  sport  and  recreation,  in  which 
he  cordially  sympathized.  Spartan  endurance  he  de- 
sired them  to  acquire,  for  he  possessed  and  prized  it 
himself.  He  was  in  advance  of  his  day  in  cold-water 
bathing,  which  he  regularly  practised,  in  a  cold  room, 
even  in  winter.  He  slept  with  the  window  open  all 
winter;  a  practice  which  at  first  dismayed  his  wife, 
but  which  she  learned  herself  to  value.  In  winter,  he 
occasionally  ran  barefoot  a  considerable  distance  in  the 
snow,  to  which  feat  she  never  was  reconciled. 

Plodding  manual  toil  never  suited  Arthur's  mer- 
curial temperament.  He  sympathized  with  Daniel 
Webster,  whose  scythe  never  hung  to  suit  him,  ex- 
cept when  it  hung  in  an  apple-tree.  He  relieved  his 
tasks,  however,  by  an  active  and  playful  imagination, 
recounting  fables  to  his  companion  Richard,  and  con- 
structing air-castles  for  his  amusement. 

He  would  represent  a  rich  man  rolling  in  a  coach 
with  gilded  trappings,  to  bear  him  to  congenial  scenes 
of  wealth  and  luxury,  but  leaving  the  aggravated 
Richard  ignobly  plying  his  hatchet  at  the  tedious 
brush  block.  Or  else  he  would  personify  and  weave 
into  his  narrative  the  grotesque  traits  of  every  per- 
son who  crossed  our  path  having  any  singularity. 
.After  a  while  he  brought  together  these  caricatures 


CHILDHOOD.  27 

into  an  assemblage  called  "  The  Universal  Band  " ; 
whose  adventures  beguiled  many  an  hour  of  work. 
After  the  boys  had  retired,  too,  at  night,  Arthur 
continued  these  humorous  narratives,  with  such  an 
exhilarating  effect  upon  him  and  his  audience  of 
one,  that  their  peals  of  laughter  disturbed  the  family, 
and  the  parents  came  and  enjoined  silence.  One 
of  Arthur's  imaginary  personages  was  an  eccentric 
man,  who  never  could  be  converted  to  the  electrical 
theory,  and  would  wear  a  brass  hat  for  his  protec- 
tion in  thunder-storms  ;  nor  could  repeated  lightning 
strokes  beat  into  his  cranium  a  different  conviction ; 
he  always  attributing  his  wonderful  preservation  to 
his  brazen  covering.  Another  was  a  tall  individual, 
with  an  ardent  thirst  for  overhearing  conversations, 
and  a  faculty  of  projecting  his  ears  for  this  purpose 
several  yards  from  his  head,  till  they  had  drank  in 
the  desired  information.  Another  was  a  person  of 
very  timorous  temper,  constantly  interrupting  the  most 
festive  discourse  with  his  unseasonable  croak  of  alarm. 
We  forbear  to  spin  Arthur's  yarns  over  again,  lest 
they  should  not  impress  the  public  risibles  as  they 
did  our  own,  in  the  blithesome  days  of  early  boy- 
hood, before  the  shadow  of  death  fell  upon  our  house- 
hold. Suffice  it  to  say,  that,  though  we  have  read 
Dickens  with  hearty  merriment,  he  never  drew  from 
us  that  almost  self-annihilating  laughter  with  which  we 
were  seized  in  Arthur's  recitals. 

We  ought  not  to  omit,  in  this  connection,  our  first 
military  experience  in  a  company  of  martial  boys, 
organized  and  drilled  on  our  common,  by  William  A. 
Richardson,  then  attending  school  at  Groton,  after- 


28  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

ward  Arthur's  classmate  in  college,  and  now  our  hon- 
ored Judge  of  Probate  and  Insolvency  for  the  County 
of  Middlesex. 

Arthur's  father  instilled  into  him  lessons  of  nature, 
for  which  he  had  a  passion,  and  the  Groton  scenery 
opened  fair  pages.  He  walked  forth  with  his  children 
in  the  sparkling  crystal  mornings,  holding  their  hands 
in  his,  and  sympathizing  in  the  exuberance  of  their 
buoyant  spirits.  At  such  a  time,  when  asked  if  he 
found  his  rural  retirement  suited  to  his  taste,  he  de- 
clared that  he  only  regretted  he  had  not  taken  the 
step  earlier.  He  added  to  the  pleasures  of  the  walk 
by  genial  conversation,  encouraging  the  children  to 
enter  upon  themes  sometimes  beyond  their  years.  He 
spoke  of  the  short-sighted  pursuits  in  which  men  were 
ordinarily  absorbed,  unworthy  of  the  capacities  and 
aims  of  immortal  beings.  He  touched  upon  human 
greatness,  declaring  that  the  pen  wielded  a  greater 
power,  and  secured  a  higher  and  nobler  as  well  as 
more  lasting  fame  than  the  sword,  —  instancing  this 
by  Walter  Scott,  whose  name,  he  said,  would  have  an 
increasing  lustre  when  Napoleon's  star  had  grown  dim. 
He  seized  occasions  to  commend  industry  and  econ- 
omy in  the  little  things  of  life  which  make  up  the 
mickle,  and  to  point  out  the  folly  and  peril  of  pecu- 
niary speculation. 

The  changing  scenes  of  nature,  with  whose  every- 
day face  out-of-door  occupations  and  sports  made  Ar- 
thur familiar,  impressed  his  mind  indelibly  and  gave 
a  habit  to  his  thought.  His  very  active  fancy  could 
not  be  bound  down  to  the  slow  round  of  manual  labor, 
and  was  perpetually  star-gazing,  or  sky-gazing,  or 


CHILDHOOD.  29 

giving  a  voice  to  the  wind  and  waterfall.  Hence  it 
happened,  in  his  after  life,  that,  habitually  in  public 
speaking,  he  appealed  to  the  current  events  of  the 
natural  world  as  a  commentary  to  his  thought ;  and 
if  any  change  passed  over  nature's  face,  even  while 
he  was  speaking,  he  made  use  of  it  as  aptly  as  if  he 
had  expected  it,  or  its  very  mission  were  to  serve  him 
for  illustration.  The  overcasting  cloud,  the  returning 
triumph  of  sunshine,  the  rainbow,  the  showers,  the 
snows,  the  wind,  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  day  and 
night,  spring,  summer,  autumn,  winter,  —  these  were 
his  alphabet  or  vocabulary,  learned  by  heart  in  his 
childhood's  intimacy  with  nature.  In  his  remarks  at 
the  Groton  Bicentennial  Dinner,  before  alluded  to,  he 
thus  refers  to  the  scenes  of  nature  :  "  The  pleasant 
walks  by  day  in  your  beautiful  groves  and  fields,  our 
sports  on  the  river's  bank,  the  moonlight  pastimes 
beneath  the  ancient  elms  near  my  honored  father's 
dwelling,  the  regard  of  my  young  heart  for  those  once 
living  on  earth,  and  now  no  less  truly  living  in  heaven, 
can  never  be  forgotten." 

Before  the  house  was  a  semicircle  of  two  or  three 
acres,  at  the  bottom  of  which  ranged  some  pines, 
where  the  redbreast  robins  regularly  sang  their  tuneful 
loves,  and  in  the  same  nests,  year  after  year,  laid  their 
blue  eggs.  As  their  melodies  told  of  their  home  joys, 
their  parental  anxieties  and  triumphs,  when  their  little 
ones  were  hatched,  nurtured,  and  at  last  committed  to 
the  air  on  full-fledged  wings,  he  reminded  the  children 
that  we  could  learn  to  be  considerate  of  them,  by  re- 
flecting upon  their  own  domestic  attachments.  He  in- 
dulged the  children  in  keeping  pets.  To  each  was  a 


30  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

chicken  given  from  the  spring  brood.  Of  course  this 
chicken  must  survive  the  ides  of  Thanksgiving,  and 
must  hatch  one  or  more  broods  of  new  exempts  next 
season.  In  this  way,  like  Jacob's  speckled  cattle,  the 
poultry-yard  soon  passed  to  the  children,  and  we  re- 
member the  father  repossessing  himself  at  least  twice 
by  purchase. 

Arthur  had  also  a  tame  blue  dove  he  called  Divie^ 
which  was  a  constant  companion  in  the  house  and 
field,  her  master's  finger  being  her  favorite  perch. 
This  lovely  bird,  in  the  familiarities  of  several  months, 
endeared  itself  to  the  hearts  of  all  the  household,  and 
cruelly  were  they  lacerated  when  it  fell  a  prey  to  the 
spirit  of  evil  in  the  form  of  a  cat.  Arthur  was  so 
much  affected  by  the  loss  that  he  would  never  have 
another  dove. 

In  this  varied  development,  under  the  happy  au- 
spices of  a  loving  father,  was  Arthur's  childhood  faith- 
fully improved.  But  the  even  tenor  of  his  life  in 
Groton  was  destined  soon  to  be  interrupted  by  a  fear- 
ful shock  of  fate,  which  was  to  precipitate  upon  his 
tender  years  the  cares  of  manhood,  scarcely  permitting 
the  orphan  to  weep  for  his  dearly  loved  sire,  in  the 
pressure  of  new  and  grave  duties. 

His  father  had  a  naturally  delicate  constitution ; 
although,  fortified  by  strict  temperance,  a  spare  and 
regular  diet,  cold-water  bathing,  and  habitual  exercise 
in  the  open  air,  he  had  been  enabled  to  endure  the 
fatigues  of  public  life  and  the  exhausting  labors  of  a 
lawyer  in  full  practice.  As  a  little  child  he  was  puny 
and  sickly,  and  though  he  rallied  so  as  to  acquire  an 
average  strength,  his  health  always  demanded  careful 


CHILDHOOD.  31 

attention.  As  he  returned  to  farm  labors,  he  seemed 
to  fancy  himself  a  boy  again,  and  able  to  engage  in  its 
pursuits  as  actively  as  ever.  His  spirit  was  as  eager 
and  vigorous  and  resolute,  but  the  frame  of  fifty  had 
neither  the  elasticity  nor  endurance  of  the  age  of  fif- 
teen. Neither  he  nor  his  family  appeared  to  realize 
this.  His  energy  prompted  him  to  inspirit  the  men 
he  employed  by  his  own  example,  and  they  sought 
for  the  triumph  of  the  physical  over  the  intellectual 
by  outdoing  him  and  putting  his  strength  to  the  test. 
We  remember  him,  in  the  violent  heat  of  summer, 
loading  grain,  with  the  perspiration  flowing  over  his 
brow,  while  the  hired  man  was  endeavoring  to  pitch 
on  the  load  faster  than  it  could  be  arranged  on  the 
cart.  After  such  efforts  he  was  compelled  to  lie  down 
on  his  bed  from  exhaustion,  yet  no  one  thought  of  evil 
consequences. 

Among  other  farm  improvements,  he  paid  par- 
ticular attention  to  draining  low  lands,  and  bringing 
to  fertility  the  mines  of  agricultural  wealth  borne 
thither  and  deposited  by  the  water.  Vegetable  matter 
while  saturated  decays  slowly,  but  when  the  water 
is  let  off  and  the  warm  sunbeams  admitted,  decompo- 
sition is  rapid.  Arthur's  father,  in  the  summer  and 
early  autumn  of  1835,  had  caused  some  low  lands  to 
be  thus  drained  and  opened  to  the  action  of  the  sun. 
It  was  afterwards  thought  (with  how  much  justice  we 
do  not  undertake  to  decide)  that  malaria  was  exhaled 
from  this  drained  land,  and  led  to  the  severe  family 
sickness  of  that  season.  Certain  it  is,  that  Margaret 
at  this  time  was  brought  near  the  gates  of  death  with 
typhus  fever.  Soon  after  her  recovery,  her  father  was 


32  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

seized  with  Asiatic  cholera,  and  the  same  autumn  the 
two  boys,  Arthur  and  Richard,  were  ill  with  fever. 
The  fatal  sickness,  however,  of  the  father,  at  least, 
may  have  had  other  causes.  Perhaps  his  constitution, 
naturally  so  delicate,  had  worn  out.  Not  long  before 
his  death,  while  as  yet  having  no  symptoms  of  sick- 
ness, he  expressed  to  Arthur  a  presentiment  that  his 
departure  from  earth  was  near  at  hand.  He  spoke  of 
it  seriously,  but  with  cheerfulness.  Perhaps  he  may 
have  been  admonished  by  a  declension  of  strength 
incident  to  the  wearing  out  of  the  body,  as  it  draws 
towards  the  close  of  its  term.  Or  the  proximity  of 
the  spiritual  world  may  have  touched  some  delicate 
chords  in  his  nature,  and  made  itself  apprehended  by 
a  new  and  spiritual  experience. 

On  the  morning  of  the  thirtieth  day  of  September, 
1835,  Arthur's  father  had  appeared  in  usual  health ; 
and  for  dinner  had  partaken  of  rice  and  milk,  his 
favorite  repast.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  day,  while 
in  the  house,  he  was  seized  with  sudden  illness,  vomit- 
ing and  sinking  helpless  to  the  floor.  He  was  imme- 
diately taken  up,  borne  to  his  chamber,  and  laid  upon 
his  bed.  As  soon  as  he  was  carried  there,  he  declared 
calmly  that  he  felt  his  sickness  would  be  mortal ;  and 
was  able  to  say  little  else,  such  was  the  agony  of  his 
sickness.  The  family  physician,  who  was  speedily 
summoned,  pronounced  the  malady  to  be  Asiatic  chol- 
era, although  there  was  at  that  time  no  other  known 
case  of  this  fell  scourge  in  New  England,  and  though, 
from  habits  of  strict  temperance,  and  simple,  abstemi- 
ous diet,  he  was  an  improbable  subject  for  the  disease. 
Yet  the  symptoms  were  indubitable ;  and  the  doctor's 


CHILDHOOD.  33 

opinion  was  afterwards   confirmed  by  a  post-mortem 
examination  conducted  by  several  physicians. 

The  conflict  between  the  defensive  forces  of  nature 
and  the  assault  of  disease  was  short  but  terrible.  For 
twenty  hours,  alternate  spasms  and  chills,  attended 
with  a  cold  perspiration  beading  the  marble  brow, 
evidenced  the  progressive  parallels  with  which  the 
besieging  foe  advanced  to  storm  the  citadel  of  life. 
But  no  groan,  no  murmur  of  complaint  did  the  suf- 
ferer permit  to  escape  him.  At  last  there  was  a  lull, 
preparatory  to  the  final  onset,  which  was  to  break 
upon  his  life  and  liberate  the  tried  spirit,  to  know 
no  more  pain,  no  more  sorrow,  no  more  death.  He 
now,  in  a  faint  whisper,  being  too  much  reduced  to 
speak  aloud,  expressed  his  desire  to  bid  farewell  to 
his  family;  and,  as  they  gathered  about  his  bedside, 
he  smiled  faintly,  but  with  undimmed  love,  upon  the 
dear  weeping  circle.  The  parting  kiss  he  strove  to 
return  with  his  cold  lips,  while  his  eye  irradiated  un- 
dying love,  and  the  light  of  the  familiar  smile  flickered 
transiently  upon  his  pallid  features.  The  seal  of 
that  kiss  could  never  be  forgotten  or  effaced.  It  at- 
tested a  love  stronger  than  death ;  and  it  pathetically 
reiterated  the  lessons  of  fatherly  admonition,  counsel, 
and  affection  which  those  lips  could  no  longer  utter. 
The  speechless  symbol  was  more  expressive  than 
fluent  language.  It  served  as  the  solemn  authenticat- 
ing seal  set  to  the  children's  life  commission  by  the 
dying  father,  and  mutely  expressed  what  he  could  no 
longer  speak.  His  undying  affection  in  the  dying 
hour  crowned  the  uniform  kindness  and  tenderness 
of  his  life.  Finis  coronal  opus.  And  the  perfect  re- 
2*  c 


34  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

pose  of  his  trust  in  God  in  that  time  of  utmost  need 
ennobled  him  in  his  children's  view,  and  threw  a  glory 
over  his  virtues. 

Soon  after  this  farewell  scene,  he  was  released  from 
his  sufferings.  It  was  evening  when  he  breathed 
his  last.  The  children  slept,  and  were  first  awakened 
to  know  themselves  orphans  by  the  solemn  tones  of 
the  minister's  prayer,  proceeding  from  the  chamber 
of  death.  Sad  indeed  it  is,  when  the  young  child 
first  says  to  himself,  "I  have  no  father!"  The 
mother's  love  lacks  the  father's  power  to  protect,  pro- 
vide, and  open  the  path  of  life.  Yet  in  this  case  the 
gloom  of  the  occasion  was  soothed  by  the  repose  of 
the  father's  face,  as  he  lay  low  in  death.  All  trace 
of  suffering  had  passed  away,  and  the  features  had 
not  been  emaciated  in  the  short  season  of  sickness. 
The  expression  of  his  countenance  was  pleasant  and 
almost  smiling,  seeming  bound  by  the  lightest  spell 
of  slumber;  and,  except  that  the  eyes  were  closed, 
looking  as  the  children  had  seen  him  when  engaged 
with  his  papers,  humming  to  himself  some  gentle 
strain. 

His  age  at  his  death  was  fifty-seven  years.  He 
was  temporarily  interred  in  Cambridge ;  and,  finally, 
in  the  family  lot  at  Mount  Auburn. 


CHAPTER    III. 

YOUTH. 

"  The  individual  man,  —  how  does  he,  on  his  birthdays,  reflect  upon  the  period  of 
life  already  gone  !  behold,  as  it  were  in  vision,  the  solemn  pageant  of  scenes  long 
passed  away  :  look  on  paintings,  Lung  in  Memory's  gallery,  of  deeds  performed  in 
bygone  years,  and  over  which  the  veil  is  generally  drawn  as  too  sacred  for  common 

and  uncaring  eyes How  does  he  rejoice  in  the  thought  of  early  struggles  as 

requisite  for  the  development  of  his  character,  and  early  hardships  suited  to  task 
and  strengthen  his  powers  of  endurance."  —  Bi-Centennial  Address,  delivered  at 
Groton,  Massachusetts,  Oct.  31st,  1855,  by  REV.  ABTHCB  B.  FULLER. 

|Y  the  death  of  the  father,  the  main  pillar 
of  the  family  edifice  was  stricken  away. 
Not  merely  was  affection  lacerated  by  the 
loss,  and  the  aching  void  of  afflicted  love 
felt  in  the  place  which  the  honored  parent  had  filled, 
but  there  was  also  a  sense  of  helplessness  as  well  as 
loneliness ;  and  forebodings  of  the  future  mingled 
their  shadows  with  the  gloom  of  bereavement.  This 
was  not  exclusively  from  lack  of  property  inheritance, 
but  still  more  from  an  entire  inexperience  in  business, 
and  a  strong  distaste  for  it,  in  those  on  whom  the 
management  of  affairs  now  devolved.  The  mother 
was  as  naturally  inapt  for  finances  as  one  of  her 
flowers,  cherished  by  her  as  she  herself  had  been  by 
her  husband's  fostering  care.  She  was  characterized 
by  quick  perception,  devoted  affection,  and  constant 
delight  in  all  the  forms  of  beauty ;  but  she  had  never 


36  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

learned  to  calculate  ;  and  she  felt  wholly  helpless  as  the 
managing  head  of  the  family.  Her  daughter  Margaret 
was  her  main  reliance.  But  that  daughter,  though 
learned  in  the  lore  of  many  tongues,  and  gifted 
with  force,  courage,  and  energy,  had  one  weak  point, 
and  that  was  business.  She  dreaded  computation. 
Mammon  she  felt  never  looked  auspiciously  on  her 
destiny.  She  was  not  a  votary  at  his  shrine  ;  and  the 
offended  numen  did  not  shine  upon  her  fortunes. 

Of  the  rest  of  the  family,  Eugene,  her  younger 
brother,  was  engaged  in  the  study  of  the  legal  profes- 
sion. He  had  as  yet  acquired  little  knowledge  of 
business,  and  could  not  relieve  his  mother  and  sister 
from  the  weight  of  care.  William,  still  younger,  was 
at  a  distance,  engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits.  Arthur 
was  but  thirteen  years  of  age. 

The  property  left  by  the  father  was  mostly  real 
estate,  and,  though  unembarrassed  with  debt,  was  but 
little  productive.  Lands  he  acquired  he  generally 
retained.  The  Cambridge  Port  house  had  never  been 
sold,  though  it  rented  for  but  a  trifling  sum.  He  left 
two  farms  ;  but  farms  are  proverbially  unprofitable, 
except  to  owners  applying  their  own  hands  to  the 
task  of  culture.  It  may  be  well  this  should  be  so ; 
at  any  rate,  so  it  is  in  New  England.  One  of  these 
farms,  situated  in  Easton,  Massachusetts,  came  upon 
his  hands  under  peculiar  circumstances.  He  had  been 
professionally  employed  to  draw  the  deed  of  convey- 
ance. The  purchaser,  making  no  mention  of  the 
grantor  being  married,  it  might  not  have  been  deemed 
the  duty  of  one  employed  merely  as  a  draughtsman 
to  insert  the  release  of  dower.  This  was  omitted; 


YOUTH.  87 

the  husband  died,  and  the  widow  came  forward  to 
claim  her  thirds.  Acting  from  the  dictates  of  a  deli- 
cate sense  of  honor,  the  lawyer  himself  assumed  the 
purchase ;  and  thus  came  to  be  the  owner,  till  his 
death,  of  a  distant  farm,  from  which  he  never  re- 
ceived an  annual  return  of  two  per  centum  of  the 
cost.  He  visited  it  yearly,  accompanied  by  some 
of  his  children.  It  abounded  in  stones,  which  had 
been  built  into  walls  of  many  feet  in  thickness,  that 
might  have  served  to  defend  a  city.  On  it  stood  an 
old  red  house,  boarded  in  the  ancient  permanent 
style  with  white  oak.  Here  the  widow  enjoyed  her 
"  thirds "  ;  living  in  a  sort  of  contest  of  longevity 
between  her  own  tenement  of  clay  and  the  oak- 
boarded  red  house.  She  succumbed  at  last ;  but  she 
outlived  her  cotenant. 

There  was  also  a  little  land,  of  trifling  value,  in 
Salem,  Massachusetts,  a  few  bank  shares,  and  the 
mortgage  for  the  purchase-money  of  the  estate  on 
Dana  Hill,  Cambridge ;  property  appraised  at  some- 
thing over  twenty  thousand  dollars,  yet,  as  will  readily 
be  perceived,  affording  a  slight  income,  and  small 
means  for  the  family  maintenance  and  the  education 
of  several  children.  It  required  a  very  different  style 
of  life  from  what  the  family  had  been  habituated  to 
while  the  father  managed  affairs,  and  his  professional 
earnings  were  equivalent  to  a  handsome  annuity. 

Arthur's  mother  now  relied  upon  Margaret  for  judg- 
ment and  counsel.  The  devoted  daughter,  with  a 
noble  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  gave  up  her  plans  of  for- 
eign culture,  just  ripe  for  fulfilment,  her  literary  am- 
bition and  pleasures,  in  obedience  to  the  call  of  the 

357683 


38  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

nearest  duty.  She  said  she  felt  she  should  not  other- 
wise be  at  peace  in  her  mind.  But  it  was  a  great 
disappointment  to  her ;  and  she  was  further  depressed 
by  a  sense  of  incapacity  for  her  new  post.  Yet  she 
determined  to  make  up  by  courage  and  energy  for  her 
deficiencies  in  business  faculty.  And  she  succeeded, 
though  at  the  cost  of  some  shadowed  and  melancholy, 
yet  unrepining  hours. 

To  perform  her  task,  she  felt  that  the  boys  should 
be  duly  impressed  with  their  condition  and  the  neces- 
sity laid  upon  them  in  life,  and  that  the  family  affairs 
should  be  fully  explained  and  unfolded  to  them.  The 
family  had  frequent  gatherings,  like  the  Indian  at 
his  council-fires,  to  discuss  future  prospects,  and  ter- 
ribly gloomy  and  portentous  did  they  seem  to  the 
young  hearts.  Fear  and  helplessness  sat  at  the  coun- 
cil-board. 

Arthur  was  thus  seriously  affected,  and  his  every 
power  called  out.  We  cannot  doubt  that  the  lessons 
he  now  learned  were  of  life-long  value  to  him ;  and, 
especially,  that  what  he  had  to  undergo  roused  his 
energies,  and  trained  him  to  the  resolute  habit  of 
grappling  with  difficulties  and  overcoming  obstacles 
which  characterized  his  manhood. 

During  the  season  succeeding  the  father's  death,  the 
farm  was  carried  on  by  the  boys,  assisted  by  an  inexpe- 
rienced hired  man,  whose  ignorance  was  only  equalled 
by  his  pretension.  Arthur,  in  the  improvised  curtain 
narratives  which  have  been  alluded  to,  denominated 
him  "  The  Haughty,"  making  a  caricature  of  his  rash 
and  clumsy  method  of  farm-work,  and  visiting  upon 
him  an  ideal  retribution  for  his  presumption.  In  the 


YOUTH.  39 

course  of  the  season  the  man  became  constantly  more 
offensive,  and  Arthur  planned  a  coup  d'etat  to  get  rid 
of  him.  He  selected  a  stout  cornstalk-but  for  himself, 
and  another  for  Richard,  and,  during  the  husking 
operations,  headed  an  onset  upon  "  The  Haughty." 
The  immediate  object  was  not  gained,  for  the  defend- 
ant was  a  full-grown  and  athletic  man.  The  corn- 
stalks proved  too  frail  a  weapon,  and  were  soon  broken 
in  the  vigorous  assault,  which  the  party  attacked  finally 
repelled,  and  even  carried  the  war  into  Africa.  The 
matter  was  thence  adjourned  to  the  civil  tribunal, 
where  Margaret  acted  as  judge.  Here  "  The  Haugh- 
ty "  was  loud  in  his  charges,  while  Arthur  justified  the 
assault  as  provoked  by  many  grievances,  and  instigated 
by  the  spirit  of  our  heroic  revolutionary  fathers.  Mar- 
garet regarded  it  as  a  balanced  case,  and  would  not 
censure  the  boys.  Not  long  after  the  man's  term  ex- 
pired, and  no  new  engagement  was  made  with  him. 
This  cornstalk  engagement  we  deem  the  more  memo- 
rable, because  we  believe  it  was  Arthur's  first  martial 
encounter,  and  his  second  was  the  battle  of  Freder- 
icksburg.  We  never  knew  him  on  any  other  occa- 
sion to  have  any  conflict  with  man  or  boy.  As  a 
child  he  was  spirited,  and  always  believed  in  the 
right  of  self-defence  ;  nor  would  he  have  tamely  sub- 
mitted to  insult  or  injury.  But  his  demeanor  was  not 
such  as  to  invite  aggression,  and  he  was  always  too 
kindly  and  considerate  to  provoke  strife. 

The  following  season  the  family  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  secure  the  services  of  a  faithful  and  efficient 
man,*  who  managed  the  farm  affairs  as  well  as  if  his 

*  Since  a  prosperous  farmer  upon  acres  of  his  own,  hi  Groton. 


40  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

own,  and  obtained  unprecedented  crops.  This  year, 
with  such  efficient  aid,  it  was  felt  that  Arthur  could  be 
spared  from  the  farm,  and  that  the  time  should  be  dili- 
gently employed  by  him  in  his  college  preparation. 
He  accordingly  attended  school  at  the  academy  in 
Leicester,  Massachusetts,  of  which  his  father  had  once 
been  a  teacher.  He  made  considerable  progress  here 
in  his  studies,  and,  what  is  more  important,  he  received 
serious  religious  impressions  at  prayer-meetings.  As 
early  as  this,  or  even  earlier,  he  set  his  heart  upon  be- 
coming a  minister  of  the  Gospel ;  and  from  this  purpose 
he  never  wavered ;  nor  did  we  ever  hear  him,  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  ministerial  career,  in  the  sunny 
side  and  the  shady  side  of  the  clergyman's  life,  in  trials 
or  successes  or  disappointments,  express  one  regret 
that  his  choice  had  fallen  upon  a  calling  which  he  ever 
regarded  as  most  useful  and  noble. 

During  the  next  season  the  whole  farm-work  de- 
volved upon  Arthur,  at  the  age  of  fifteen  years,  aided 
by  his  younger  brother.  The  plan  and  the  execution 
of  farm  culture,  the  buying  and  selling,  were  left  to 
them.  And  the  farm  was  thus  successfully  carried  on, 
with  an  occasional  day-laborer,  and  steady  help  during 
the  toils  of  the  hay-field.  Arthur  overcame  his  natu- 
ral repugnance  to  labor,  and  prosecuted  farm  pursuits 
with  the  same  energy  and  enthusiasm  which  he  after- 
wards manifested  in  other  fields.  Occasionally  ex- 
treme heat  or  fatigue  from  incessant  toil  disposed  the 
younger  brother  to  give  way,  but  Arthur  would  hear 
no  such  word  as  retreat.  He  never  worked  harder 
than  in  these  fields  of  home,  nor  did  any  retrospect 
afford  him  more  satisfaction  than  the  remembrance  of 


YOUTH.  41 

his  farm  labors.  An  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  work 
may  be  gathered  from  the  statement,  that  the  boys 
tilled  some  five  or  six  acres  of  corn  and  potatoes;  and 
about  twenty  tons  of  hay  were  harvested.  The  stock 
consisted  of  three  good  cows  and  a  pair  of  oxen,  be- 
sides hogs. 

The  dairy  was  cared  for  by  the  diligent  mother, 
who  achieved  laborious  triumphs  in  the  making  of 
butter  and  cheese,  which  fully  sufficed  for  the  family 
use.  Although  her  house  labors  were  more  than  equal 
to  her  slender  strength  and  health,  and  her  years  bor- 
dering on  fifty,  yet  she  would  not  permit  her  numer- 
ous coterie  of  garden  flowers  to  suffer,  nor  would  she 
incur  the  expense  of  the  -assistance  of  a  gardener,  nor 
divert  the  boys  from  the  necessary  and  crowded  avoca- 
tions of  the  field.  Her  flowers  she  fostered  herself,  in 
every  hour  she  could  snatch  from  household  pursuits, 
toiling  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  obliged  by  her  near- 
sightedness  to  stoop  to  close  proximity.  Yet  her  ideal 
darlings  sprang  up,  bloomed  and  faded,  neither  choked 
by  weeds  nor  faint  through  want  of  irrigation. 

As  has  been  already  stated,  the  family  employed 
occasional  help  in  the  farming.  Such  men  as  worked 
for  them  no  doubt  have  always  their  counterpart  in 
society.  But  a  few  of  these  characters,  who  have 
long  passed  from  life's  stage,  must  be  sketched  here, 
because  they  were  painted  on  the  easel  of  boyish 
fancy,  and  their  idiosyncrasies  furnished  sportive 
themes  for  Arthur's  epics,  while  they  enjoyed  the 
honor  of  being  enrolled  in  his  "  Universal  Band." 
One  of  them,  familiarly  called  "John,"  was  an  in- 
veterate follower  of  Bacchus,  in  his  cheaper  and 


42  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

grosser  cups.  His  only  merit  was  good-nature.  We 
have  not  been  able  to  obliterate  from  memory  his 
always  placid  but  bloated  countenance.  His  ex- 
cesses had  fearfully  recoiled  upon  him.  With  other 
boon  companions,  he  lived  with  a  neighbor  in  the 
working  season.  This  neighbor  himself  adhered 
firmly  to  principles  of  total  abstinence  —  from  water ! 
He  boasted  that  he  had  not  been  thirsty  enough  for 
twenty  years  to  drink  it.  And  nature  had  conformed 
to  his  tastes,  by  giving  him  a  jug  figure,  surmounted 
with  a  bald  head  like  a  stopper.  Certain  friends  of 
his,  congenial  spirits,  of  which  charmed  circle  John 
formed  a  link,  lived  with  him  in  the  summer  season, 
doing  just  days'  works  enough  to  pay  for  a  little  meat 
and  a  great  deal  of  drink ;  and,  when  they  got  "  out 
of  spirits,"  taking  up  their  winter-quarters  in  the 
poorhouse.  Such  specimens  of  depravity  tended  to 
give  the  boys  a  horror  of  those  habits  which  had 
wrought  their  degradation  ;  and  the  mother  did  not 
decline  to  employ  them  occasionally,  in  special  exigen- 
cies, as  their  conversation  and  deportment  were  not 
objectionable  when  their  friend  Alcohol  had  deserted 
them  in  their  need,  and  they  were  trying  to  obtain  the 
golden  lure  to  draw  him  back.  Her  pity  for  them 
exceeded  her  censure,  as  it  did  in  the  case  of  all  the 
degraded  and  unfortunate.  This  they  well  knew,  and 
were  sometimes  emboldened  to  enter  the  garden,  which 
bordered  on  their  own  demesne,  when  she  was  en- 
gaged with  her  flowers,  under  pretext  of  admiring  her 
favorites,  but  really  with  an  eye  to  the  fruits  which 
abounded  there.  We  well  remember  one  occasion, 
when  John  had  entered  the  garden  and  climbed  into 


YOUTH.  43 

a  choice  cherry-tree.  There  we  spied  him  among  the 
green  leaves,  his  red  and  bacchic  countenance  like  a 
huge  cherry  engaged  in  devouring  the  little  cherries, 
as  the  rod  of  Aaron  swallowed  those  of  the  magicians. 
We  boys  contrived  to  hint  to  him  that  for  certain  rea- 
sons these  familiarities  with  the  fruit  were  not  entirely 
agreeable  to  us,  and  John  was  magnanimous  enough 
to  leave  the  banquet,  alleging  his  preference  for  the 
indigenous  fruit  of  the  same  species  whose  distilled 
virtues,  he  boasted,  garnished  the  generous  cellar  of 
his  host. 

When  we  employed  John  and  his  compeers,  some 
oversight  was  necessary  to  keep  them  to  their  tasks. 
They  delighted  to  beguile  their  toil  with  narrative  of 
fact  and  fiction  which  they  represented  as  having  once 
occurred  in  the  vicinity ;  and  they  sought  often  to 
pause  and  lean  upon  their  hoe,  or  other  implement,  the 
better  to  point  out  the  locus  in  quo,  or  lend  to  their 
descriptions  the  animation  of  gesture.  But  Arthur 
was  not  to  be  circumvented  in  this  way.  Like  an 
efficient  speaker  or  moderator,  he  continually  brought 
them  back  to  the  matter  immediately  under  discussion, 
namely,  the  row  they  were  hoeing,  or  whatever  work 
was  in  hand. 

One  of  our  day-laborers  brought  with  him  a  large 
mastiff,  of  whose  pugnacious  exploits  he  bragged  till 
Arthur  grew  weary  of  the  theme,  and  asserted  that 
he  could  vanquish  the  dog  himself.  The  man,  with 
wounded  vanity,  declared  he  would  like  to  set  the  dog 
on  and  try  it.  Arthur  would  not  recede  from  what  he 
had  said,  and  the  result  was  the  dog  was  set  on,  and 
rushed,  with  bristled  hair  and  tail  erect  and  bare  fangs, 


44  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

to  the  encounter.  For  about  five  minutes  Arthur  plied 
his  boots  with  rapidity  and  vigor  against  the  dog's 
chest  and  chaps,  occasionally  bringing  the  canine  jaws 
together  with  the  tongue  unpleasantly  sandwiched  be- 
tween them,  till  the  dog  ingloriously  lowered  his  cau- 
dal flag,  and,  despite  the  invective  of  his  master, 
turned  back  from  the  proceeding  with  a  bugle-note  far 
different  from  the  trumpet-bark  which  sounded  the 
charge. 

Interspersed  with  farm  toil  was  the  relief  of  rainy 
days  and  our  rare  public  holidays.  One  of  the  latter 
was  the  old  Election-day,  on  the  last  Wednesday  of 
May ;  at  which  date  it  was  the  rule  among  farmers, 
to  have  the  planting  completed.  This  was  a  sad  day 
for  the  birds,  whose  exulting  spring  melodies  were 
wont  to  be  cruelly  interrupted,  and  their  nestlings 
bereaved  by  the  sports  of  the  hunter.  The  law  now 
has  not  only  transferred  the  election  day  to  another 
season^  but  shields  with  its  broad  aegis  the  little  birds' 
nests,  protecting  their  domestic  joys  from  the  ruthless 
sportsman.  Arthur  and  Richard,  we  believe,  only 
once  assumed  a  musket,  in  the  Election-day  hunting  ; 
and  we  do  not  know  that  Arthur,  on  any  other  occa- 
sion, discharged  fire-arms  till  the  battle  of  Fredericks- 
burg.  Their  father  kept  a  brace  of  pistols  in  the  house  ; 
but  he  always  cautioned  the  children  against  them: 
and  his  warning  had  the  more  effect  from  the  powder 
explosion  by  which,  as  we  have  narrated,  Arthur  and 
Richard  were  injured  in  Cambridge,  and  from  an 
incident  which  occurred  on  one  occasion,  when  he  ex- 
hibited the  pistols  and  the  manner  of  firing  them  to 
gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  family  at  the  fireside.  We 


YOUTH.  45 

have  a  lively  recollection  of  that  occasion.  "  Now, 
children,"  said  he,  "  I  know  perfectly  well  that  these 
pistols  are  not  loaded  ;  yet,  in  showing  you  the  opera- 
tion of  the  lock,  I  shall  not  point  the  pistol  at  the 
head  of  some  one,  as  a  boy  might  do,  for  bravado. 
For  instance,  I  shall  not  point  it  at  your  sister  Mar- 
garet." With  this  remark,  he  directed  the  weapon 
to  the  wall,  near  the  floor,  and  drew  the  trigger. 
Great  was  our  consternation  when  the  pistol  exploded, 
and  discharged  a  bullet  through  the  wall  into  the  cel- 
lar. This  unlooked-for  result  was  explained  after- 
ward, when  it  was  ascertained  that  some  one  had 
been  practising  with  the  pistols,  and  inadvertently  left 
them  loaded. 

On  the  Election-day  referred  to,  Arthur  and  Rich- 
ard sallied  forth  to  the  hunt,  musket  on  shoulder. 
The  first  bobolink  they  levelled  at  was  considerably 
agitated,  broke  off  his  jubilant  strain,  and  took  his 
flight,  the  boys  claiming  that  they  had  drawn  blood. 
Several  other  birds,  after  the  discharge  of  their  pieces, 
paid  to  their  sportsmanship  the  compliment  of  retir- 
ing to  a  distance.  But,  after  a  while,  the  bobolinks 
seemed  to  get  an  inkling  of  the  true  nature  of  the 
case,  and  to  shake  their  sides  and  wings,  convulsed 
with  songs  of  derisive  merriment.  After  several 
hours,  the  boys  returned  home,  without  a  single 
feather  as  a  trophy ;  and  they  did  not  try  the  gunner's 
sport  again.  They  were  more  successful  in  angling, 
on  the  banks  of  Nashua  River,  or  floating  in  boats  upon 
the  mirror-depths  of  Martin's  Pond. 

After  haying  was  finished,  the  farmers  usually  in- 
dulged themselves  in  a  day's  pastime,  spent  in  a  fishing 


46  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

excursion.  The  men  employed  to  help  in  haying, 
the  season  Arthur  and  Richard  carried  on  the  .farm, 
made  a  great  point  of  this  day  of  sport ;  and  the  boys 
accompanied  them  on  the  occasion.  They  procured 
some  spirituous  liquors ;  and,  after  themselves  imbib- 
ing, strove  hard,  by  ridicule  and  persuasion,  to  induce 
the  boys  to  partake.  Arthur  was  firm  in  his  resist- 
ance, but  Richard  was  prevailed  upon,  in  spite  of 
Arthur's  entreaty,  and  warning  that  he  should  let  his 
mother  know  of  the  affair.  On  retiring  that  night, 
the  mother  visited  Richard's  bedside,  and  administered 
to  him  a  solemn  reproof,  which  he  never  forgot. 
This  was  Arthur's  first  step  in  the  temperance  cause, 
in  which  he  afterwards  faithfully  labored. 

In  the  Groton  experience,  Arthur's  education  was 
by  no  means  neglected.  The  mother  and  sister  re- 
garded the  grand  purpose  of  preparing  him  for  the 
arena  of  life  as  far  transcending  the  convenience  and 
expediency  of  the  hour ;  and  nothing  would  have 
tempted  them  to  sacrifice  his  welfare  to  the  family 
needs.  It  was  very  justly  believed,  conformably  to 
the  father's  views  and  plans,  that  the  hardships  of 
farm  labor  might  form  a  very  valuable  part  of  educa- 
tional training  ;  while  the  complernental  part  of  mental 
discipline  Margaret  heroically  assumed.  Her  rule 
was  to  study,  in  the  summer,  the  out-door  literature, 
traced  in  the  expressive  characters  of  nature,  with  its 
"  books  in  the  running  brooks,  sermons  in  stones,  and 
good  in  everything "  :  while  in  the  winter  she  ap- 
plied herself  to  human  lore.  This  was  her  regime, 
also,  with  the  boys.  As  soon  as  the  farm  harvests 
were  garnered,  the  seed-time  of  in-door  teaching  com- 


YOUTH.  47 

menced;  and  for  several  hours  a  day  she  presided 
over  the  family  school.  This  was  a  very  great  sac- 
rifice to  her.  Her  own  mind  was  amply  stored, 
and  she  longed  now  to  create,  in  emulation  of  those 
masters  who  had  won  the  laurels  of  literature.  To 
teach  children,  scarcely  in  their  teens,  was  as  much 
below  her  bent  as  for  Apollo  to  tend  the  flocks  of 
Admetus.  Nor  could  she,  like  him,  beguile  the  oc- 
cupation with  the  lyre.  Her  father's  death,  the  aban- 
donment of  her  plan  of  European  travel,  and  the  new 
weight  of  uncongenial  family  cares  had  depressed 
her,  and  her  harp  hung  for  a  time  tuneless  upon  the 
willows. 

As  a  teacher  few  have  excelled  her.  Not  merely 
did  she  faithfully  train  to  good  habits  of  mental  ap- 
plication ;  not  merely  did  she  store  the  mind  with  the 
treasures  of  learning ;  but  she  constantly  sought  to 
kindle  and  stimulate  noble  aspiration.  When  in  their 
studies  they  came  upon  the  feats  of  Roman,  Greek,  or 
modern  patriotic  devotion,  she  would  expatiate  upon 
them  with  glowing  eloquence.  Little  did  they  expect, 
when  they*thus  learned  and  admired  the  devotion  of 
Curtius  or  Scsevola,  or  the  modern  Swiss  who  broke 
the  assailing  phalanx  by  gathering  with  the  embrace 
of  his  extended  arms  a  sheaf  of  pointed  spears  into 
his  own  bosom,  that  their  own  times  would  add  new 
narratives  to  the  legends  of  glory ;  that  the  Italian 
War  and  the  American  Rebellion  would  furnish  many 
instances  of  devoted  heroism,  unsurpassed  by  the 
bright  pages  of  history ;  and  that  in  these  scenes  the 
aspiring  teacher,  Margaret,  and  the  ardent  pupil, 
Arthur,  would  participate. 


48  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

No  doubt  her  personal  influence  on  Arthur  was 
more  important  than  what  she  could  impart  to  him 
in  those  early  years.  A  noble  spirit  is  catching  ;  and 
Arthur  was  quite  capable  of  being  lighted  with  her 
enthusiasm.  She  herself  remarked  this,  express- 
ing the  opinion  that  in  his  mind  he  resembled  her 
more  than  the  other  children.  The  formative  in- 
fluence she  hoped  to  have  on  the  boys  and  upon  her 
sister  Ellen,  who  composed  the  trio  of  her  family 
school,  she  regarded  as  much  more  important  than 
the  rudiments  of  learning,  which  she  would  have 
willingly  committed  to  another  teacher,  and  which  it 
much  tasked  her  patience  to  communicate.  Her  own 
great  quickness  and  astonishing  rapidity  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge  led  her  to  expect  the  same 
in  her  pupils  ;  and  tardiness  on  their  part  was  very 
trying  to  her.  The  little  awkward  ways  which  some- 
times fasten  on  children  annoyed  her  inexpressibly. 
Among  these  may  be  mentioned  a  habit  the  boys 
fell  into  of  incessant  movement  of  the  hands,  as  if 
catching  at  succor  in  the  recitations,  when  they  were 
drowning  in  the  deep  places  of  Virgil.  'It  seemed 
absolutely  impossible  for  them  to  think  of  the  hand 
and  keep  it  still,  while  agonized  with  classic  diffi- 
culties and  trembling  in  dread  of  the  doom  of  a  bad 
recitation.  Sometimes  their  bright  answers  in  ge- 
ography or  history  made  her  laugh  outright.  She 
preferred  to  laugh  rather  than  weep,  which  was  her 
only  alternative.  Some  of  these  bright  responses  she 
recorded  at  the  end  of  the  geography  in  perpetuam 
memoriam.  We  have  in  mind  a  passage,  which  may 
still  be  seen  by  any  one  who  can  obtain  access  to  that 


YOUTH.  49 

• 

text-book,  —  "  Richard,  being  asked  where  Turkey  in 
Asia  was,  replied  that  it  was  in  Europe  ! " 

In  a  subsequent  letter  to  Arthur,  while  he  was 
absent,  completing  his  college  preparation,  Margaret 
thus  refers  to  her  family  school :  — 

"  You  express  gratitude  for  what  I  have  taught 
you.  It  is  in  your  power  to  repay  me  a  hundred- 
fold by  making  every  exertion  now  to  improve.  I 
did  not  teach  you  as  I  would ;  yet  I  think  the  con- 
finement, and  the  care  I  then  took  of  you  children, 
at  a  time  when  my  mind  was  so  excited  by  many 
painful  feelings,  have  had  a  very  bad  effect  upon  my 
health.  I  do  not  say  this  to  pain  you,  or  to  make 
you  more  grateful  to  me  ;  for,  had  I  been  aware 
at  the  time  what  I  was  doing,  I  might  not  have 
sacrificed  myself  so ;  but  I  say  it,  that  you  may  feel 
it  your  duty  to  fill  my  place,  and  do  what  I  may  never 
be  permitted  to  do.  Three  precious  years  at  the  best 
period  of  my  life  I  gave  all  my  best  hours  to  you 
children  ;  let  me  not,  then,  see  you  idle  away  time, 
which  I  have  always  valued  so  much  ;  let  me  not  find 
you  unworthy  of  the  love  I  felt  for  you.  Those  three 
years  would  have  enabled  me  to  make  great  attain- 
ments, which  now  I  never  may.  Do  you  make 
them  in  my  stead,  that  I  may  not  remember  that 
time  with  sadness.  I  hope  you  are  fully  aware  of  the 
great  importance  of  your  time  this  year.  Your  con- 
duct now  will  decide  your  fate.  You  are  now  fifteen  ; 
and  if,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  we  have  not  reason 
to  be  satifised  that  you  have  a  decided  taste  for  study, 
and  ambition  to  make  a  figure  in  one  of  the  profes- 
sions, you  will  be  consigned  to  some  other  walk  in  h'fe. 

3  D 


50  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

For  you  are  aware  that  there  is  no  money  to  be 
wasted  on  any  of  us ;  though  if  I  live  and  thrive, 
and  you  deserve  my  sympathy,  you  shall  not  want 
means  and  teaching  to  follow  out  any  honorable  path. 
With  your  sister  Ellen's  improvement  and  desire  to 
do  right,  and  perseverance  in  overcoming  obstacles, 

I  am  well  satisfied May  God  bless  you,  and 

make  this  coming  year  a  prelude  to  many  honorable 
years ! 

"  Next  time  I  write,  I  will  not  fill  my  whole  sheet 
with  advice.  Advice  too  often  does  little  good ;  but 
I  will  not  believe  I  shall  speak  in  vain  to  my  dear 
Arthur." 

Early  in  the  year  1839  a  purchaser  was  obtained 
for  the  Groton  place  ;  and  the  family  willingly  bade 
adieu  to  the  scene  of  their  first  great  calamity,  and 
many  consequent  hardships  and  trials.  The  step  was 
the  more  advisable,  because  Arthur  and  Richard  had 
arrived  at  years  which  called  for  a  more  exclusive 
appli cation  to  study  than  the  cares  of  the  farm  ad- 
mitted of. 

Margaret,  in  a  letter  to  her  brother,  thus  dwells 
upon  the  Groton  trials  :  — 

"  You  were  too  young  to  feel  how  trying  are  the 
disorders  of  a  house  which  has  lost  its  head;  the 
miserable  perplexities  of  our  affairs ;  and  what  your 
mother  suffered  from  her  loneliness  and  sense  of  unfit- 
ness  for  her  new  and  heavy  burden  of  care.  It  will 
be  many  years  yet  before  you  can  appreciate  the 
conflicts  of  my  mind,  as  I  doubted  whether  to  give  up 
all  which  my  heart  desired,  to  enter  a  path  for  which 
I  had  no  skill  and  no  call,  except  that  some  one  must 


YOUTH.  51 

tread  it,  and  none  else  was  ready.  The  Peterborough 
hills  and  the  Wachusett  are  associated  in  my  mind 
with  many  hours  of  anguish,  as  great,  I  think,  as  I  am 
capable  of  feeling.  I  used  to  look  at  them,  towering 
to  the  sky,  conscious  that  I,  too,  from  my  birth  had 
longed  to  rise  ;  but  I  felt  crushed  to  earth.  Yet 
again,  a  noble  spirit  said  that  could  never  be.  The 
good  knight  may  come  forth  scarred  and  maimed 
from  the  unequal  contest,  shorn  of  his  strength  and 
unsightly  to  the  careless  eye ;  but  the  same  fire  burns 
within,  and  deeper  than  ever.  He  may  be  conquered, 
but  never  subdued. 

"Yet  if  these  beautiful  hills  and  wide,  rich  fields 
saw  this  sad  lore  well  learned,  they  also  witnessed 
some  precious  lessons  given,  too,  —  of  faith,  of  forti- 
tude, of  self-command,  and  of  less  selfish  love.  There, 
too,  in  solitude,  heart  and  mind  acquired  more  power 
of  concentration,  and  discerned  the  beauty  of  a  stricter 
method.  There  the  heart  was  awakened  to  sympathize 
with  the  ignorant,  to  pity  the  vulgar,  and  to  hope  for 
the  seemingly  worthless ;  for  a  need  was  felt  to  attain 
the  only  reality,  —  the  divine  soul  of  this  visible  crea- 
tion, —  which  cannot  err  and  will  not  sleep,  which  can- 
not permit  evil  to  be  permanent,  or  the  aim  of  beauty 
to  be  eventually  frustrated,  in  the  smallest  particular. 

Ought  I  not  to  add,  that  my  younger  brothers, 

too,  laid  there  the  foundations  of  more  robust,  enter- 
prising, and  at  the  same  time  self-denying  charac- 
ter?" 

After  some  months'  study  at  a  private  school,  taught 
by  Mrs.  Sarah  Ripley,  in  Waltham,  Massachusetts, 
Arthur  entered  Harvard  University.  He  passed  the 


52  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

four  years  of  college  life  happily  and  profitably,  and 
graduated  with  an  honorable  part  in  1843.  Among 
his  classmates  were  Rev.  Dr.  Hill,  now  President  of 
the  University,  Judge  Richardson,  before  mentioned, 
Rev.  Frederick  N.  Knapp,  of  Washington,  now  en- 
gaged in  the  labors  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and 
others  who  have  become  well  known.  During  the 
first  year  he  maintained  a  position  at  or  near  the  head 
of  the  class,  but  his  health  giving  way,  he  was  obliged 
to  relax  his  efforts. 

While  in  college  the  concerns  of  religion  were  not 
forgotten  in  the  pleasures  of  the  Castalian  spring. 
His  serious  impressions  ripened  into  church-member- 
ship, and  he  united  with  the  church  of  the  University. 
In  attendance  upon  the  round  of  college  duties  he  was 
regular.  In  associating  with  his  fellows  he  guarded 
against  exciting  the  ill-will  of  that  portion  who  did  not 
propose  to  themselves  a  serious  aim  in  college  pursuits, 
yet  he  was  careful  not  to  suffer  his  time  to  be  frittered 
away.  He  lays  down,  for  one  about  to  enter  college, 
the  following  rules  to  regulate  his  conduct,  before  he 
has  learned  the  character  of  his  companions :  "  I  ad- 
vise you  on  no  account  to  miss  a  single  prayer  or  reci- 
tation ;  but  do  not  boast  of  it,  or  those  who  have 
missed  a  great  many  will  dislike  you.  Be  sociable  and 
agreeable  when  any  one  calls  on  you;  but  do  not 
yourself  call  much  on  others." 

During  his  college  course,  to  eke  out  his  finances, 
he  taught  a  district  school  in  Westford  and  in  Dux- 
bury,  Massachusetts.  His  love  for  children  rendered 
teaching  for  him  a  pleasant  and  successful  task.  He 
engaged  in  the  work  animated  by  the  same  enthusiasm 


YOUTH.  53 

which  characterized  him  in  every  pursuit  of  his  life. 
Imagination,  hope,  and  a  buoyant  temper  cast  a  rose- 
ate coloring  over  all.  In  a  letter  from  Westford,  he 
declares  that  the  children  in  his  school  are  "  very  in- 
telligent and  pretty,  every  one."  He  did  not  fail  to 
please,  in  his  turn,  those  who  were  so  agreeable  to 
him,  and  to  obtain  access  also  to  the  regard  of  the 
parents  through  the  sure  way  of  the  children's  hearts. 

He  was  no  less  successful  in  Duxbury,  where,  we 
are  happy  to  learn,  his  labors  have  not  been  forgotten. 
From  Duxbury  he  writes,  "  I  have  thirty-nine  schol- 
ars, all  good  ones,  all  love  me.  I  am  so  fortunate, 
also,  as  to  please  the  parents,  and,  in  fact,  was  never 
happier  in  my  life.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do,  how- 
ever, besides  the  regular  school  labors,  in  teaching, 
evening  schools,  visiting  the  parents,  and  studying  my- 
self in  order  to  instruct  them  well."  And  again  he 
writes :  "  I  have  been  invited  to  several  balls  and 
parties.  The  former  I  never  go  to,  and  the  latter 
always."  Shortly  before  he  closed  his  school,  a  meet- 
ing of  the  district  was  holden,  which  passed  the  fol- 
lowing preamble  and  resolutions. 

"  Whereas,  Mr.  A.  B.  Fuller,  our  accomplished  and 
much-esteemed  instructor,  is  about  to  close  his  school 
in  this  place,  and  we  feel  desirous  of  expressing  our 
warm  approbation  of  his  course  while  with  us,  and  our 
sincere  gratitude  for  his  earnest  and  faithful  labors; 
therefore, 

"Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  this  meeting  be  ten- 
dered to  Mr.  Fuller,  for  his  able  and  successful  exer- 
tions in  imparting  that  knowledge  to  our  children 
which  the  world  can  never  take  away. 


54  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"Resolved,  That  we  approve  of  the  methods  which 
Mr.  Fuller  has  taken  to  instruct  the  pupils  consigned 
to  his  charge  :  that  we  believe  his  influence  has  been 

O        * 

of  the  most  beneficial  tendency,  in  preserving  uncor- 
rupted  the  characters  and  hearts  of  our  children ;  that 
both  his  precept  and  example,  while  with  us,  have 
tended  to  inculcate  and  sustain  a  sound,  elevated  mo- 
rality." 

From  reminiscences  of  our  district-school  teacher, 
kindly  furnished  us  by  one  of  his  former  pupils,  we 
make  the  following  extract. 

"  We  boys  were  sometimes  invited  to  spend  the 
evening  at  his  rooms,  and  then  we  enjoyed  ourselves 
heartily.  He  entertained  us  with  stories,  anecdotes 
of  history  and  philosophy,  and  a  sight  at  the  '  Mas- 
ter's '  literary  treasures,  such  as  seals,  colored  wax, 
transparent  wafers,  and  other  knick-knacks,  which 
seemed  to  our  admiring  eyes  like  Oriental  treasures. 
The  literary  entertainment  was  followed  up  by  a  feast 
of  nuts,  apples,  and  oranges,  very  congenial  to  our  boy- 
ish appetites.  These  favors  made  us  look  up  to  and 
love  the  teacher,  endearing  to  us,  too,  the  master's 
room  in  the  old  red  cottage  on  the  hill ;  and  many  a 
well-recited  lesson,  I  ween,  has  been  the  result  of 
those  happily  spent  evenings. 

"  He  introduced  evening  schools  into  our  district, 
made  interesting  by  spelling-matches,  debates,  and 
lessons  he  gave  us  in  reading.  At  one  of  these  even- 
ing schools  we  were  much  annoyed  by  a  crowd  of 
vandal  boys,  with  adult  forms,  but  undeveloped  brains, 
from  a  neighboring  district,  who  boasted  that  they  had 
put  down  the  evening  spelling-school  in  their  own  dis- 


YOUTH.  55 

trict,  and  were  bound  to  stop  ours.  They  assailed 
us  with  various  hideous  noises  at  the  windows,  and 
even  with  pebbles.  Our  master  of  a  sudden  donned 
his  hat,  and  with  but  two  strides,  as  it  seemed  to  us, 
sallied  from  the  school-house  and  pounced  upon  the 
ringleader,  a  lad  as  tall  and  nearly  as  heavy  as  himself, 
seizing  him  by  the  collar,  to  the  boy's  surprise  and  the 
confusion  of  his  comrades,  and  shaking  him  nearly  out 
of  his  boots.  He  then  required  his  comrades,  who 
to  the  number  of  six  or  eight  were  gathered  round 
their  chapfallen  leader,  to  give  him  all  their  names, 
and  thoroughly  dismayed  the  whole  set,  who  never 
troubled  us  more." 

Arthur's  school-teaching  drew  from  his  sister  Mar- 
garet, who  was  never  lavish  of  commendation,  the  fol- 
lowing terms  of  approbation,  in  a  letter  to  him :  "  I 
am  satisfied  that  your  success,  and  the  tact  and  energy, 
by  which  you  have  attained  it,  are  extraordinary.  I 
think  of  you  with  great  pleasure,  and  am  only  anxious 
about  your  health." 

In  a  letter,  some  months  previous,  she  imparts  to 
Arthur  her  views  of  the  methods  of  teaching :  a  sub- 
ject which  she  had  carefully  considered,  in  connec- 
tion with  her  practical  experience ;  as  many  gifted 
minds  have  done,  especially  in  classic  times ;  and  as 
all  cultivated  minds  should  do,  having  no  right  to 
shut  up  in  themselves  the  treasures  of  learning  and 
thought. 

"About  your  school,"  she  says,  "I  do  not  think 
I  can  give  you  much  advice  which  would  be  of  value, 
unless  I  could  know  your  position  more  in  detail. 
The  most  important  rule  is,  in  all  our  relations  with 


56  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

our  fellow-creatures,  never  to  forget  that,  if  they  are 
imperfect  persons,  they  are  still  immortal  souls,  and 
treat  them  as  you  would  wish  to  be  treated,  in  the 
light  of  that  thought. 

"  As  to  the  application  of  means,  —  '  abstain  from 
punishment  as  much  as  possible,  and  use  encourage- 
ment as  far  as  you  can,  without  flattery '.'  But  be  even 
more  careful  as  to  strict  truth  in  this  regard  towards 
children  than  to  persons  of  your  own  age.  For  to 
the  child  the  parent  or  teacher  is  the  representative 
of  justice ;  and  as  the  school  of  life  is  severe,  an  edu- 
cation which  in  any  degree  excites  vanity  is  the  very 
worst  preparation  for  that  general  and  crowded  school. 

"  I  doubt  not  you  will  teach  grammar  well ;  as  I 
saw  you  aimed  at  principles  in  your  practice.  In 
geography,  try  to  make  pictures  of  the  scenes,  that 
they  may  be  present  to  their  imaginations,  and  the 
nobler  faculties  be  brought  into  action  as  well  as 
memory. 

"  In  history,  try  to  study  and  paint  the  characters 
of  great  men:  they  best  interpret  the  leadings  of 
events  amid  the  nations. 

"  I  am  pleased  with  your  way  of  speaking  of  both 
people  and  pupils.  Your  view  seems  from  the  right 
point;  yet  beware  of  over-great  pleasure  in  being 
popular  or  even  beloved." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

BELVIDERE,    OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 

1  These  are  the  gardens  of  the  desert,  these 
The  unshorn  fields,  boundless  and  beautiful, 
And  fresh  as  the  young  earth  ere  man  had  sinned,  — 
The  prairies." 

BRYANT. 
"  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed." 

"  He  that  watereth  shall  be  watered  also  himself." 

N  graduating,  in  1843,  Arthur  Fuller  com- 
menced that  career  of  enthusiastic  and  tire- 
less public  activity,  which  was  never  inter- 
mitted except  by  the  tribute  of  sleep  he 
grudgingly  paid  to  the  night,  and  the  occasional  pro- 
tests of  overtasked  nature  in  the  transient  form  of 
illness,  till  he  rested  forever  from  his  labors  on  the 
battle-field  of  Fredericksburg.  The  ink  of  his  college 
diploma  was  scarcely  dry,  when  he  started  for  the 
prairies  of  the  West,  on  a  mission  of  teaching  and 
preaching.  He  embarked  not  only  his  whole  soul,  but 
his  whole  fortune  in  this  enterprise ;  investing  the 
several  hundred  dollars  still  remaining  of  his  patrimony 
in  the  purchase  of  an  academy  in  Belvidere,  Illinois. 
He  attached  himself  to  this  institution,  as  he  did  to 
the  pastorate  of  several  churches  afterward,  at  the 
nadir  of  fortune's  wheel,  sure  that  it  could  go  no  lower, 
and  hoping  to  give  an  upward  impulse. 
3* 


58  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

The  academy  at  Belvidere  had  been  discontinued, 
and  was  now  re-opened.  It  was  an  expired  light,  in 
a  locality  where  its  lamp,  well  trimmed  and  burning, 
might  radiate  afar,  without  a  rival,  over  a  new,  broad, 
and  interesting  field,  as  a  much-needed  beacon  of 
knowledge  and  influence.  We  always  thought  the 
principal  who  now  started  the  Belvidere  academy 
into  new  life  was  admirably  calculated  for  the  West- 
ern field,  by  reason  of  the  animated,  almost  fever- 
ish impetus  of  activity,  which  would  not  let  him  rest, 
and  which  was  in  harmony  with  the  rush  and  onward 
sweep  of  Western  life.  Here,  too,  his  delight  in  na- 
ture could  be  amply  gratified,  as  he  rode  over  the 
level  or  rolling  prairie,  with  its  beautiful  flowers 
nodding  among  the  verdure,  its  occasional  park,  and 
its  broad  horizon,  regaled  by  the  melodious  song- 
ster, the  long-drawn  strain  of  the  turtle-dove,  .the 
clouds  of  pigeons,  like  the  arrows  of  Persia,  darkening 
the  sun,  and  made  romantic,  too,  and  even  dangerous, 
by  the  prowling  packs  of  rapacious  wolves.  Such  were 
the  Illinois  prairies  in  1843.  Belvidere,  the  shire 
town  of  Boone  County,  already  numbered  nearly  a 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  every  day  swelled  its  census. 
The  town  is  located  on  the  eastern  head-waters  of  the 
Rock  River,  in  a  region  of  unsurpassed  natural  beauty. 

Margaret,  in  1843,  thus  depicts  scenes  of  Rock 
River:  "It  is  only  five  years  since  the  poor  Indians 
have  been  dispossessed  of  this  region  of  sumptuous 
loveliness,  such  as  can  hardly  be  paralleled  in  this 
world.  No  wonder  they  poured  out  their  blood  freely 
before  they  would  go.  On  one  of  the  river  islands 
may  still  be  found  the  '  caches '  for  secreting  pro- 


BELVIDERE,    OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  59 

visions,  the  wooden  troughs  in  which  they  pounded 
their  corn,  and  the  marks  of  their  tomahawks  upon 
felled  trees.  When  the  present  owner  first  came,  he 
found  the  body  of  an  Indian  woman,  in  a  canoe,  ele- 
vated on  high  poles,  with  all  her  ornaments  on.  This 
island  is  a  spot  where  Nature  seems  to  have  exhausted 
her  invention  in  crowding  it  with  all  kinds  of  growths, 
from  the  noblest  trees  down  to  the  most  delicate  plants. 
It  divides  the  river,  which  there  sweeps  along  in  a 
clear  and  glittering  current,  betwixt  noble  parks, 
richest  green  lawns,  pictured  rocks,  crowned  with  old 
hemlocks,  or  smooth  bluffs,  three  hundred  feet  high, 
the  most  beautiful  of  all.  Two  of  these,  the  '  Eagle's 
Nest '  and  the  '  Deer's  Walk,'  still  the  habitual  re- 
sort of  the  grand  and  beautiful  creatures  from  which 
they  are  named,  were  the  scene  of  some  of  the  hap- 
piest hours  of  my  life.  I  had  no  idea,  from  verbal 
description,  of  the  beauty  of  these  bluffs ;  nor  can  I 
hope  to  give  any  to  others.  They  tower  so  magnifi- 
cently, bathed  in  sunlight :  they  touch  the  heavens 
with  so  sharp  and  fair  a  line  !  This  is  one  of  the  finest 
parts  of  the  river ;  but  it  seems  beautiful  enough  to 
fill  any  heart  and  eye  all  along  its  course  ;  and  nowhere 
broken  or  injured  by  the  hand  of  man."  * 

On  the  twenty-sixth  of  September,  1843,  Arthur 
started  upon  his  Western  mission,  with  a  quick  ear  and 
eye  for  observation,  and  a  thirst  for  information,  which 
made  the  world  an  instructive  book,  from  whose  pages 
he  who  had  gone  forth  to  teach  should  himself  be 
taught.  Early  in  his  journey,  a  scene  in  the  railroad 
car  furnished  the  first  lesson.  Arthur  has  himself  re- 
corded it. 

*  Margaret  Fuller's  Unpublished  Works,  Vol.  II.  p.  677. 


60  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  A  little  boy  of  twelve  years  of  age,  poor  and  rag- 
ged, came  into  the  car.  There  was  a  slight  shrinking 
from  him  manifested  by  some  of  the  well-dressed  pas- 
sengers. He  took  his  seat  quietly  near  me ;  and  a 
sea-captain,  who  entered  at  the  same  time,  told  me  his 
touching  story.  I  learned  that  he  was  a  poor  orphan, 
and,  three  days  before,  had  been  wrecked.  A  vessel 
which  had  seen  the  accident  sent  forth  its  boat,  to 
save  from  a  watery  grave  any  who  might  be  rescued. 
They  spied  the  little  boy,  floating  amid  the  waste  of 
waters,  and  approached  him  ;  but  he,  with  a  gen- 
erosity, alas  !  too  rare,  cried  out :  '  Never  mind  me  I 
save  the  captain :  he  has  a  wife  and  six  children.' 
Poor  fellow  !  he  knew  that  the  captain  had  those  who 
loved  him  and  would  need  his  support.  The  captain, 
in  telling  me  the  story,  was  much  affected,  and  said, 
with  a  sympathy  characteristic  of  the  mariner,  '  The 
boy  has  only  the  clothes  you  see,  sir  ;  or  he  would  not 
be  so  ragged.  I  care  not  so  much  for  myself,  though 
I  too  lost  all ;  but  the  poor  lad  will  have  a  hard  time 
of  it.'  Several  persons,  on  hearing  this  story,  gave 
small  sums  to  the  poor  orphan;  and  advised  him  to 
make  a  statement  to  other  passengers,  who  would 
doubtless  give  something.  '  I  am  not  a  beggar,'  was 
his  only  answer ;  '  I  don't  wish  to  beg  their  money.' 
At  this  moment,  a  fine,  benevolent-looking  individual 
arose  in  a  seat  near  me,  and  unostentatiously  offered 
to  plead  for  him  who  would  not  prefer  his  own  claim. 
Most  successful  was  the  warm-hearted  appeal  which 
he  made  to  the  passengers ;  and  ten  dollars  were  col- 
lected. 

"  The  plain,  practical,  common-sense  way  in  which 


BELVIDERE,  OR    THE   MISSIONARY.  61 

this  person  manifested  his  sympathy  for  a  fellow-being 
won  my  regard,  and  I  entered  into  conversation  with 
him.  '  I  've  been  a  sailor  myself,'  he  said.  '  The 
generous  fellows  ought  not  to  want,  when  misfortune, 
not  vice,  has  rendered  them  destitute.  I  know  this 
brave  captain  would  share  his  last  dollar  with  any 
one  in  distress.' 

"  He  sat  down  in  the  vacant  seat  next  me  ;  and 
more  and  more  was  I  pleased  to  find  that  his  religion 
was  no  mere  theory,  no  barren  speculation,  but  an 
active  principle.  I  asked  his  name.  '  Jonathan 
Walker,'  was  the  reply;  and  the  branded  hand  full 
well  attested  the  fact.  Yes  !  upon  this  man,  so  benev- 
olent, with  a  heart  so  tender,  had  the  friends  of  slavery 
wreaked  their  shameful  vengeance  !  " 

Borne  on  with  the  great  tide  of  travel,  he  soon 
finds  other  objects  to  touch  his  heart.  On  board  the 
steamer,  he  visits  the  steerage,  and  here  his  pity  is 
stirred  by  a  poor  mother  with  her  ragged  babe.  In 
his  diary,  he  says  :  "  She  pressed  her  infant,  sick,  cold, 
and  hungry  to  her  bosom,  and  gave  it  the  best  of  her 
scanty  shawl ;  while  her  haggard  look  of  despair  told 
what  she  endured.  God  help  the  poor,  and  keep  them 
from  temptation  !  Do  they  live  in  this  sad,  wretched, 
starving  way,  and  we  look  on,  and  pity  them  not? 
How  can  I  complain,  because  I  have  little,  when  they 
have  naught  ?  Some  of  these  poor  creatures  are  sleep- 
ing now ;  and  can  forget  their  cares,  and  can  dream 
of  food  and  happiness.  Happy  sleep  !  Thrice  happy 
the  sleep  of  death,  if  they  rest  in  Jesus ;  for  then  they 
will  go  to  their  Father  !  They  go  now  to  New  York. 
How  many  temptations  will  assail  them  there  !  and 


62  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

what  have  they  to  sustain  them  in  the  trying  hour  ? 
Starving  and  naked,  will  they  not  sacrifice  the  little 
they  have  learned  of  goodness  and  morality  to  keep 
the  soul  within  the  body  ?  Can  We  wonder,  when  we 
behold  the  wreck  of  womanhood,  or  the  besotted  being 
who  seeks  to  drown  care  in  the  maddening  bowl  ?  Is 
it  strange  to  find  that  receptacle  of  vice  and  infamy, 
the  '  Tombs,'  crowded  with  inmates  ?  And  yet 
many  can  look  on  with  indifference  or  brutal  con- 
tempt; some  can  laugh  at  their  squalid  misery!" 

Arrived  at  Belvidere,  the  teacher's  labors  began  in 
earnest.  Some  sixty  scholars  gathered  at  the  opening 
of  his  school,  of  various  ages,  numbering  among  them 
two  or  three  young  ministers  of  the  Christian  Connec- 
tion, who  suspended  preaching  for  the  benefits  of  his 
instruction.  He  soon  found  plenty  of  good  work  to 
do,  with  an  increasing  number  of  pupils,  but  almost  no 
money.  There  was  everything  else  in  the  "West  ex- 
cept currency.  That,  even  in  the  coin  of  Lycurgus, 
was  minus.  Parents  were  glad  to  have  their  children 
taught  at  the  academy,  if  the  principal  would  take  his 
pay  in  grain,  wood,  or  even  land.  He  was  compelled 
to  this  course,  and  had  to  turn  his  commodities  into 
money  as  he  could,  sending  them  to  another  market. 
All  this  he  underwent,  acting  in  the  double  capacity 
of  teacher  and  merchant,  with  the  hardihood  of  a 
pioneer.  But  this  was  by  no  means  the  sum  of  his 
employments,  for  he  also  did  the  work  of  an  evan- 
gelist. 

He  gives  the  following  sketch  of  the  field  of  his 
labors. 

"  The  Western  man  who  would  be  useful  must  be 


BELVIDERE,    OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  63 

no  mere  theorist;  lie  must  employ  every  physical, 
moral,  and  mental  power,  or  he  will  never  succeed. 
An  earnest  laborer  alone  can  claim  or  secure  respect 
here  ;  none  other  can  move  the  heart  or  influence  for 
good.  My  own  situation  is  one  to  be  sought  by  a  per- 
son who  sincerely  desires  to  benefit  his  fellow-men ; 
by  one  who  is  willing  to  devote  his  every  energy  to 
the  cause  of  humanity.  To  such  a  one,  a  wide  sphere 
of  useftdness  is  offered,  —  none  wider.  Here  he  will 
find  men  thirsting  for  light  and  knowledge,  and  ready 
to  learn  '  what  is  truth.'  He  will  indeed  see  much  of 
ignorance,  the  inseparable  though  deplorable  attendant 
upon  all  new  settlements ;  but  he  will  find  the  people 
are  longing  for  instruction,  and  sighing  for  those  privi- 
leges which  their  Eastern  brethren  enjoy.  An  ear- 
nest, philanthropic  man  should  seek  such  a  situation  ; 
but  it  is  one  to  be  feared  by  him  who  loves  wealth  or 
ease.  Let  him  shun  it,  for  here  is  no  happiness  for 
him.  I  daily  feel  how  much  more  self-devotion  I 
need,  how  much  more  of  a  spirit  of  prayer  and  conse- 
cration to  the  work. 

"  I  knew  long  since  the  sacrifice  I  was  making,  and 
chose  to  relinquish  ease  and  worldly  promise  in  the 
hope  of  doing  something  for  humanity.  I  love  my 
work  better  and  better.  The  more  I  contemplate  the 
fields,  white  already  for  the  harvest,  the  more  I  bless 
God  that  I  am  permitted  to  be  one  of  the  few  humble 
reapers.  I  am  resolved  to  struggle  on,  to  bear  up  in 
a  Christian  spirit,  and  look  to  God  for  assistance  and 
strength,  knowing  I  '  shall  reap  if  I  faint  not.'  Be- 
sides, I  am  rewarded  when  I  see  so  good  a  work  going 
on.  I  have  found  here  the  sphere  I  have  long  sought, 


64  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

and  am  happy,  yes  happy,  amid  all  the  toil  and  priva- 
tion,—  privation  which  you  can  never  know  till  you 
visit  us. 

"  Our  Christian  brethren  have  well  broken  the 
ground,  and  cheerfully  unite  with  us,  heart  and  hand, 
in  every  good  word  and  work.  I  have  found  among 
them  true  zeal  and  love,  and  have  joined  and  often 
speak  at  their  social  conference  meetings.  Yesterday 
I  communed  with  them,  and  never  felt  more  like  meet- 
ing the  disciples  at  the  table  of  our  common  Master. 
On  Saturday  last  we  had  a  fellowship  meeting,  as  it  is 
termed ;  and  truly  it  was  a  precious  season.  The 
writer  spoke  twice,  and  it  would  have  been  no  easy 
task  to  remain  silent.  I  have  also,  by  request,  at- 
tended and  spoken  at  a  Baptist  social  meeting,  and 
was  pleased  with  all  I  saw  and  heard." 

In  a  home  letter  he  gives  the  following  sketch  of  his 
religious  labors :  "  I  go  every  Sabbath  about  eleven 
miles,  take  charge  of  a  Sabbath-school  at  ten,  preach 
at  eleven,  have  an  intermission  of  half  an  hour  at  half 
past  twelve,  preach  again  a  long  sermon,  take  tea  at 
once,  and  ride  over  the  chill,  bleak  prairie,  directly 
home,  which  I  do  not  reach  till  late  in  the  evening. 
On  week  days,  besides  the  hours  of  teaching,  I  lecture 
and  aid  in  debating-societies,  and  so  forth,  so  that  I 
can  scarcely  find  time  to  write  even  these  poor  let- 
ters." 

He  has  given  us  an  amusing  account  of  a  perform- 
ance in  the  debating-society  of  Belvidere.  It  was 
the  discussion  of  the  temperance  question  in  the  form 
of  an  indictment,  returned  against  one  Alcohol,  charg- 
ing him,  in  various  counts,  with  murder  in  the  first 


BELVIDERE,    OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  65 

degree,  arson,  robbery,  larceny,  subornation  to  perjury, 
street-walking,  vagabondism,  and  all  the  other  crimes. 
The  principal  of  the  academy  acted  as  prosecuting 
officer.  A  lawyer  was  judge,  twelve  honest  men  were 
impanelled  for  a  jury,  and  Alcohol  retained  in  his  de- 
fence a  wily  advocate.  The  case  for  the  government 
was  strong.  Abundant  evidence  was  adduced  to 
prove  that  Alcohol  had  been  an  accessary  before  the 
fact,  and  therefore,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  principal,  in 
all  the  crimes  charged ;  nay,  that  he  had  been  the 
prime  instigator  of  the  same.  The  government  rested 
their  case  ;  and  now  came  the  ingenious  defence.  A 
gentleman,  on  whose  nose  and  other  features  Alcohol 
had  placed  the  proprietary  mark  which  is  wont  to  dis- 
tinguish his  retainers,  came  forward  to  be  sworn  for 
the  defence.  The  government's  attorney  prayed  the 
judgment  of  the  court  on  the  admissibility  of  the  wit- 
ness, objecting  that  he  was  evidently  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  defendant,  and  not  disinterested,  and  in 
fact  that  he  furnished  another  instance  of  the  very 
crime  of  subornation  charged  in  the  indictment.  The 
defendant's  counsel,  with  all  the  indignation  of  offended 
virtue,  protested  against  the  imputation  of  the  govern- 
ment. The  court  decided  not  to  take  cognizance  of 
the  objection  made  to  the  witness  so  as  to  pass  upon  it 
judicially,  but  to  allow  the  jury  to  consider  it  in  con- 
nection with  the  weight  of  testimony. 

The  witness  was  sworn  ;  and  a  keen  deponent  he 
proved  to  be.  He  testified,  as  an  expert,  that  Alcohol 
did  not  have  the  effect  upon  his  associates  of  stirring 
up  the  passions  and  depleting  the  pocket :  thus  en- 
countering with  a  general  negative  the  specific  posi- 


66  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

tive  proof  of  the  government.  He  was  made  the  mark 
of  a  raking  fire  of  cross-examination,  which  he  very 
adroitly  parried. 

"  Do  you  pretend  Alcohol  has  benefited  you  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

"  What  has  he  done  for  you  ?  " 

"  Made  me  happy." 

"  But  did  not  your  pleasure  soon  turn  into  bitterness 
and  pain  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  that  was  because  my  friend  Alcohol  left  me. 
The  moment  I  got  him  back  again,  I  was  happy  once 
more." 

On  this  evidence  the  defendant's  counsel  founded 
a  panegyric  of  Alcohol  ;  trying,  by  a  sportive  vein, 
to  induce  the  jury  to  think  lightly  of  the  charges 
"  trumped  up,"  as  he  said,  against  his  client.  But  the 
government's  attorney  effaced  the  impression  of  this 
plea  by  a  pathetic  picture  of  ruined  families,  weeping 
wives,  and  destitute  children,  society  at  large  cor- 
rupted, and  the  individual  temple  of  God  in  human- 
ity desecrated  and  turned  over  to  the  habitation  of 
demons.  The  judge  charged  fairly,  laying  down  the 
law  with  precision.  The  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of 
guilty ;  on  which  a  judgment  was  rendered  against 
Alcohol,  as  a  nefarious  criminal ;  and  he  was  branded, 
in  that  community,  as  an  outlaw. 

In  his  vacation,  our  missionary  scorns  the  scholar's 
otium  cum  dignitate,  and  starts  upon  a  missionary  tour, 
which  he  thus  describes  :  "  I  left  Belvidere  in  an  open 
wagon,  upon  my  way  to  Geneva.  I  arrived,  about 
eleven  in  the  evening,  after  a  fatiguing  journey,  and 
quite  exhausted  from  the  effects  of  the  heat,  from  which 


BELVIDERE,   OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  67 

the  interminable  and  shadeless  prairies  afforded  no  pro- 
tection. The  next  day  being  the  Sabbath,  I  preached 
both  morning  and  afternoon,  and  enjoyed  much  pleas- 
ant converse  with  our  friends  in  regard  to  the  state 
and  condition  of  the  religious  society.  The  following 
Monday,  Brother  Conant  and  myself  rode  to  Ottawa ; 
and  thence,  taking  a  boat,  we  proceeded,  amid  most 
lovely  scenery,  to  St.  Louis.  The  high,  frowning 
bluffs,  the  majestic  rocks,  and  ever  and  anon  the  smil- 
ing prairie,  afforded  a  scene  of  never-ending  pleasure." 
Thence  he  went  to  Quincy,  where  he  preached,  and 
from  there,  "  We  next  proceeded  to  Warsaw,  where 
three  days  were  passed.  Brother  Conant  and  myself 
each  preached  upon  a  week-day  evening.  The  people, 
however,  were  too  much  engrossed  with  Mormon 
troubles  to  make  us  deem  it  advisable  to  remain  over 

the  Sabbath From  Warsaw  we  went  to  Nauvoo, 

and  passed  ten  days  at  the  Nauvoo  Mansion,  kept  by 
Mrs.  Smith,  the  wife  of  Joseph  Smith,  the  founder  of 
Mormonism.  I  certainly  never  heard  such  an  amount 
of  the  novel  and  absurd  as  was  uttered  during  those 
ten  days.  Still,  while  I  believe  the  leaders  to  be  vicious 
deceivers,  I  found  many  sincere  and  worthy  people  in 
the  place  ;  and  nowhere  have  I  received  more  polite 
attention.  I  saw  and  conversed  with  a  large  number 
of  their  elders  and  chief  men,  and  became  more  and 
more  amazed  that  any  could  believe  their  absurdities. 
The  erection  of  the  temple  at  Nauvoo  continues  with- 
out cessation  ;  and  unwearied  are  their  efforts  to  com- 
plete the  structure.  How  much  is  it  to  be  regretted, 
that  so  much  zeal  and  effort  cannot  be  expended  in  a 
better  cause  !  Many  give  nearly  their  all ;  and  those 


68  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

having  naught  else  give  the  labor  of  their  hands  for 
the  erection  of  this  temple  of  delusion  ;  while,  among 
us,  those  who  hold  a  rational  and  liberal  faith  ofttimes 
refuse  a  pittance  for  the  extension  of  truth,  or  give 
but  grudgingly  a  mite  from  their  abundance." 

Having  reached  home,  he  says :  "  I  look  upon  this 
journey  with  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  as  not  having 

been  wholly  in  vain We  have  distributed  those 

silent  but  persuasive  preachers,  our  tracts,  at  many 
places  where  the  boat  stopped  but  for  a  few  minutes  ; 
and  have  sown  the  good  seed  broadcast,  in  the  hope 
that  much  of  it  will  take  root  in  good  and  honest 
hearts." 

On  another  occasion,  he  speaks  more  particularly  of 
his  tract  distribution  :  "  Often  a  tract  was  left  when 
the  boat  touched  for  but  a  few  minutes  to  take  in  a 
fresh  supply  of  wood,  where  only  a  solitary  log-cabin 
could  be  seen  for  many  a  weary  mile.  The  inmates 
would  hail  these  few  pages  with  delight,  as  promising 
to  beguile  then*  lonely  hours,  or  as  furnishing  food  for 
thought  upon  the  day  of  rest.  Sometimes  not  a  book 
could  be  found  in  the  cabin,  and  a  tract  thus  given 
would  supply  the  only  '  reading  material '  to  a  poor 
but  intelligent  family.  I  wished  very  much  that  I  had 
a  few  good  books  to  place  where  they  would  have 

been  so  faithfully  used Long  before  I  reached 

home,  the  stock  of  tracts  we  had  taken  was  exhausted, 
and  several  opportunities  to  benefit  others  were  un- 
avoidably lost. 

"  We  sometimes  hear  persons  declare,  how  much 
they  wish  they  could  preach.  To  such  I  would  say, 
Your  wish  can  be  gratified.  Take  with  you  some 


BELVEDERE,   OR  THE  MISSIONARY.  69 

tracts,  and  freely  give  to  those  who  will,  through  curi- 
osity, as  freely  receive.  Do  this,  not  officiously,  but 
from  a  desire  to  do  good,  and  fear  not  but  that  it  will 
be  accomplished.  Often  a  light  is  thus  shed  beneath 
the  humble  roof  of  the  Western  pioneer  which  dif- 
fuses joy  where  before  was  gloom.  All,  both  men 
and  women,  may  thus  become  missionaries,  and  eternity 

only  can  reveal  how  effectual  is  such  preaching 

But  against  one  mistake  we  wish  to  guard.  We  desire 
no  mere  trash.  A  worthless  book  is  worthless  the 
world  over,  and  here  would  be  doubly  pernicious.  A 
good  book,  however  old,  is  a  good  book  still,  and  will 
be  profitably  and  gratefully  read." 

It  may  be  well,  in  this  connection,  to  cite  what  he 
says  of  the  importance  of  the  Western  field ;  for  the 
state  of  things  to  which  his  words  were  applicable 
twenty  years  ago  still  exists,  and  will  long  continue, 
though  farther  removed  toward  the  setting  sun.  "We 
cannot  disguise  the  fact,  if  we  would,  that  the  West, 
now  rapidly  becoming  peopled  with  an  untrammelled, 
bold  class  of  men,  will  at  no  distant  period  have  the 
predominating  influence  in  the  councils  of  our  nation. 
If  we  refuse  to  impart  to  them,  by  our  missionaries  and 
publications,  that  light  which  cheers  our  own  hearts, 
if  we  hold  back  our  hands,  which  contain  the  antidote 
to  the  impoisoned  draught  of  infidelity,  then  shall  we 
be  responsible  for  the  anarchy  which  shall  ultimately 
prevail.  No  one  need  fear  that  Western  communities 
are  not  capable  of  appreciating  the  efforts  of  learned 
and  intelligent  missionaries,  or  of  reading  with  interest 
and  profit  the  various  newspapers,  books,  and  tracts. 
I  can  bear  willing  testimony  to  the  intelligence  of 


70  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

those  whom  it  was  my  privilege  to  address  in  different 
portions  of  the  West." 

On  another  vacation  missionary  excursion,  he  raises 
the  banner  of  Christ  in  a  log-cabin.  He  thus  refers 
to  this  occasion :  "  Here,  in  this  humble  log-cabin, 
were  gathered  men  anxious  to  hear  of  Christ,  and 
learn  the  way  of  salvation.  I  preached,  and  seldom 
have  been  more  moved  than  when  gazing  upon  the 
eager  countenances  of  my  auditors.  At  the  East,  we 
call  a  sermon  one  hour  or  more  in  length  wearisome  ; 
but  here,  where  few  religious  opportunities  are  en- 
joyed, a  shorter  discourse  would  leave  the  audience 
unsatisfied.  I  have,  too,  found  it  better  to  throw  aside 
all  notes  when  speaking ;  the  tastes,  habits,  and  per- 
haps prejudices,  of  the  people  demand  it. 

"  After  the  sermon,  according  to  custom,  I  invited 
a  free  expression  of  feeling  and  of  interest  in  the  cause 
of  Christ.  Elder  Wai  worth  spoke  with  much  earnest- 
ness, and  the  Methodist  class-leader  testified  to  the 
value  of  such  meetings,  and  the  worth  of  the  souL 
That  log-cabin,  and  the  feelings  there  expressed,  will 
be  long  remembered." 

The  young  missionary  by  no  means  restricted  his 
labors  to  his  denomination.  He  commenced  his  ca- 
reer with  ardent  longing  for  Christian  union,  and  a 
love  for  all  the  branches  of  the  True  Vine,  which 
ever  animated  him,  till  the  last  beat  of  his  heart. 
Rev.  Mr.  Conant  writes  of  him :  "  Mr.  Fuller  is  in- 
vited to  address  the  Sunday  schools,  to  participate  in 
the  social  meetings,  to  lecture,  and  even  to  preach 
to  the  Orthodox  societies.  He  lately  received  a  re- 
quest from  some  of  the  Presbyterian  Society  of  Crystal 


BELVIDEEE,   OB   THE  MISSIONARY.  71 

Lake  to  preach  to  them.  I  mention  these  things  as 
incidents  illustrative  of  what  I  have  said  of  the  con- 
fidence and  respect  which  he  has  secured.  He  attends 
to  all  these  calls,  as  far  as  time  and  strength  and  his 
other  duties  will  permit,  —  preaching,  lecturing,  and 
talking  to  the  people." 

To  the  Methodists  he  always  felt  nearly  related.  In 
a  letter  from  Belvidere  he  says:  "A  few  Sabbaths 
since,  after  teaching  a  Sabbath  school,  which  I  had 
collected  in  a  settlement  about  nine  miles  from  this 
place,  and  preaching  twice,  I  attended  a  Methodist 
meeting  about  half  a  mile  distant.  We  sat  quietly 
some  time,  waiting  the  arrival  of  their  clergyman. 
Time  passed  swiftly,  yet  he  came  not;  and  I  was 
strongly  solicited  by  the  class-leader  and  his  brethren 
to  officiate  in  the  place  of  him  they  had  expected.  At 
first  the  request  was  declined,  on  account  of  a  feeling 
of  fatigue,  but  upon  being  renewed  it  was  complied 
with,  from  a  fear  that  a  further  refusal  might  be  mis- 
interpreted. I  preached,  and  am  sure  that  at  least 
my  own  heart  was  benefited." 

The  academy,  meanwhile,  had  nearly  doubled  the 
roll  of  its  members,  and  was  enjoying  a  high  pros- 
perity. But  the  zeal  of  the  young  preacher  and 
teacher  was  burning  out  too  rapidly  the  fuel  of  life. 
The  flesh  began  to  show  itself  too  weak  for  the  willing 
spirit.  This  he  hints  at  in  the  following  letter,  which, 
while  it  furnishes  a  slight  sketch  of  his  labors,  breathes 
something  of  that  heart's  desire  for  Israel  which  in- 
spired his  efforts. 

"  You  wish,"  he  says,  "  to  know  of  my  labors ; 
and  I  will  briefly  inform  you.  Teaching  in  the  acad- 


72  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

emy,  and  having  the  whole  oversight  of  its  three  de- 
partments, and  attending  to  all  the  business  inseparable 
from  an  institution  like  mine,  sufficiently  occupy  my 
week-day  hours.  Upon  each  Saturday  I  start  for  some 
destitute  settlement,  and  lecture  during  the  evening, 
and  preach  thrice  upon  the  Sabbath.  In  one  place  I 
have  a  large  Sabbath  school,  which  I  visit  once  in 
three  weeks.  The  scholars  are  from  families  of  vari- 
ous denominations,  and  have  no  books  nor  any  teacher 
save  myself.  In  the  evening  I  usually  ride  home,  in 
order  not  to  be  late  at  school  the  next  morning.  My 
health  is  wretched  ;  and  may  drive  me  from  this  wide 
and  promising  field.  Still  there  is  too  much  to  be 
done  for  me  to  feel  that  I  have  a  moral  right  to  re- 
main unemployed ;  the  harvest  is  too  plenteous,  and 
the  laborers  too  few. 

"  It  is  not  until  recently  that  I  have  felt  it  my  duty 
to  preach  thus  regularly ;  but  the  people  in  this  region 
are  now  fairly  awakened,  and  would  '  know  of  the  doc- 
trine.' It  matters  not  how  the  storms  rage  over  these 
cold,  barren,  and  bleak  prairies,  crowded  audiences 
listen  eagerly.  O,  why  will  our  clergy  leave  this  noble 
West  unaided  by  their  counsels  ?  Why  will  not  more 
of  our  strong  men  do  battle  here  in  the  cause  of  truth 
and  Christianity?  Our  missionaries  are  obliged  to 
ford  rivers,  face  the  rude  winds,  and  preach  in  log- 
cabins  or  barns,  wherever  their  voices  may  be  heard ; 
yet  we  feel  that  the  cause  of  truth  is  onward,  and 
many  are  coming  to  a  saving  knowledge  of  religion. 
I  have  generally  preached  in  destitute  settle- 
ments, where  otherwise  the  living  voice  would  sel- 
dom tell,  upon  the  Sabbath,  of  life's  responsibilities 
and  duties. 


EELVIDERE,    OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  73 

"  Such  is  my  present  employment.  I  deeply  feel  a 
desire  to  obtain  a  more  thorough  theological  education  ; 
and,  should  I  leave  Belvidere  in  the  spring,  it  will  he 
with  that  intent,  and  on  account  of  ill-health.  My 
public  speaking  is  wholly  extemporaneous,  and  my 
week-day  labors  preclude  the  possibility  of  its  being 
otherwise." 

But  he  now  felt  compelled  to  leave  this  fruitful 
Western  field  ;  not  merely  by  the  warnings  of  his 
overtasked  health,  but  by  his  desire  to  lay  a  more 
solid  foundation  for  usefulness  in  a  profession  whose 
enlarged  sphere  of  action,  and  constant  demand  for 
new  treasures  from  the  storehouse  of  thought,  his 
experience  led  him  daily  more  highly  to  appreciate. 
Yet  he  yearns  toward  the  field  he  must  leave,  and 
longs  to  have  a  fit  successor.  "  In  order  that  he 
may  truly  succeed,"  he  says,  "  let  him  be  an  earnest, 
prayerful  man,  a  laborer  in  the  vineyard  ;  not  one  who 
comes  simply  to  contemplate  beautiful  scenery,  or  to 
benefit  his  health,  though  both  may  be  done.  He 
should  be  so  filled  with  the  importance  of  his  mission, 
that  he  could  speak  from  the  overflowing  heart,  with- 
out being  always  fettered  by  written  sermons  ;  willing, 
too,  to  preach  during  the  week  occasionally,  where  he 
found  inquiring  spirits ;  and  above  all  one  who  scorns 
not  the  humble  log  school-house,  so  that  he  may  bene- 
fit immortal  souls," 

The  labors  of  our  young  missionary  were  valued 
highly  by  his  coworkers  in  the  blessed  cause.  One 
of  the  elders  of  the  Christian  Connection  writes  thus : 
"  Brother  Roberts  accompanied  me  to  Belvidere,  and 
we  called  on  Elder  John  Walworth,  who  resides  in 

4 


74  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

the  place.  Here  seven  ministers  providentially  sat 
down  together,  —  Elders  Walworth,  Roberts,  Stick- 
ney,  Thomas,  and  Barr,  of  the  Christian  Connection ; 
and  Brothers  Conant  -and  Fuller,  Unitarian.  How 
delightful  the  interview  !  It  was  good  and  pleasant ; 
for  all  were  of  one  heart,  united  by  bonds  stronger 
than  death.  Belvidere  is  a  beautiful  place,  and  an 
interesting  point.  It  is  a  county  seat,  settled  by  an 
intelligent,  enterprising  class  of  inhabitants.  Brother 
Walworth  travels  extensively,  and  his  labors  are  abun- 
dant through  the  wide  circle  of  his  travels.  But  his 
field  was  too  large,  and  the  coming  of  other  ministers 
has  afforded  timely  aid.  We  have  a  first-rate  academy 
at  Belvidere." 

Again  Elder  Oliver  Barr  writes :  "  Belvidere  is  a 
place  of  much  interest.  There  is  a  flourishing  acad- 
emy here,  under  the  supervision  of  Professor  Fuller,  a 
young  man  of  splendid  talents,  fine  accomplishments, 
and  eminently  qualified  as  a  teacher.  Professor  Fuller 
is  a  clergyman  of  the  Unitarian  order,  but  a  humble, 
ardent  Christian,  and  zealously  devoted  to  the  advance- 
ment of  spiritual  Christianity,  —  strongly  sympathizing 
with  the  Christians,  and  wishing  to  see  our  interests 
and  efforts  identical  in  the  West." 

Rev.  Augustus  H.  Conant  writes  :  "  Brother  A.  B. 
Fuller,  Principal  of  the  Belvidere  Academy,  is  exert- 
ing a  quiet,  but  deep  and  strong  and  constantly  widening 
influence." 

Elder  John  Walworth  thus  expresses  his  regret  at 
the  departure  of  the  missionary  teacher  :  "  We  regret 
that  we  are  compelled  to  relinquish  our  claims  upon 
the  successful  labors  of  Brother  A.  B.  Fuller,  Princi- 


BELVIDERE,   OR   THE   MISSIONARY.  75 

pal  of  the  Academy,  on  account  of  his  ill-health.  The 
confinement  and  arduous  labors  of  the  school-room 
were  fast  undermining  a  constitution  which  was  not 
naturally  strong,  nor  fitted  to  endure  such  constant 
application.  He  has  found  it  necessary,  in  order  to 
regain  his  health,  and  if  possible  his  constitution,  to 
return  to  the  East,  in  hopes  that  comparative  relief 
from  so  much  labor  and  care  will  in  some  measure,  if 
not  entirely,  restore  his  health.  Mr.  Fuller  felt  desi- 
rous to  sell  the  Academy  to  friendly  persons;  which 
he  did,  by  sacrificing  considerably  in  order  to  con- 
tinue it  in  the  hands  of  our  friends He  has 

acquitted  himself  honorably  as  the  principal  in  this 
institution,  as  an  accomplished  and  competent  teacher. 
He  leaves  the  school  deeply  regretted  by  the  students 
and  their  parents  and  friends,  who  will  long  affection- 
ately remember  his  unwearied  exertions  to  benefit  his 
pupils.  He  leaves  many  friends  here  who  ardently 
wish  him  health  and  prosperity,  and  who  hope,  should 
his  life  be  spared  to  enter  another  field  of  labor,  that 
extended  usefulness  and  success  may  continue  to  at- 
tend him." 

We  have  in  the  welcome  extended  to  the  zealous 
labors  of  our  young  missionary  by  other  denominations 
a  pleasing  proof  of  the  cardinal  oneness  of  Christian 
faith.  And  is  there  anything  more  satisfactory  than 
to  see  the  standard-bearers  of  Christ,  his  representa- 
tives upon  the  earth,  complying  with  his  touching 
prayer,  —  "that  they  may  be  one"?  They  will  be 
one  in  heaven ;  and  can  they  refuse  to  be  one  on 
earth  ?  It  was  at  the  prompting  of  this  union  spirit 
that  "  Brother  Fuller "  (such  is  the  record  of  Elder 


76  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Barr)  "  offered  himself  as  an  associated  member  with 
us,  to  aid  in  the  great  work  in  which  we  are  engaged. 
We  received  him  as  a  Unitarian  minister,  yet  a  brother 
beloved,  faithful,  devoted,  zealous,  and  commended 
him  as  a  member  of  this  conference.  If  this  be  'a 
paradox,'  be  it  so.  I  would  to  heaven  there  were 
more  of  that  catholic,  fraternizing  spirit  among  Chris- 
tians generally!  Subsequently  to  this,  Brother  Ful- 
ler's impaired  health  required  him  to  leave  his  flourish- 
ing school  in  Belvidere." 

Thus  we  have  given  a  brief  statement  of  a  Western 
experience  of  two  years  ;  and  we  think  those  two 
fleeting  years  form  as  bright  pages  as  any  in  this 
biography.  We  believe  God  accepted  the  devotion  of 
the  young,  zealous  heart,  like  the  grateful  offering  of 
Abel's  sacrifice.  And  the  reaper  received  wages. 


CHAPTER    V. 

DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 


N  his  return  from  the  "West,  in  1845,  Ar- 
thur Fuller  entered  the  Cambridge  Divinity 
School  one  year  in  advance  ;  having  already, 
amidst  his  active  duties,  gone  through  with 
the  first  year's  studies  of  that  institution.  Thus,  in 
what  Choate  describes  as  "  fitful,  fragmentary  leis- 
ure," he  had  laid  up  half  the  allowance  of  a  student 
in  theology,  while  performing  the  double  function  of 
teacher  and  preacher.  More  than  the  other  half  he 
had  learned  from  the  book  of  nature  and  man.  He 
had  stored  his  mind  with  grand  images  from  the  vast 
level  or  billowy  roll  of  the  prairie  ;  he  had  entered 
heart  and  soul  into  the  onward  rush  of  Western  life, 
and  had  thus  obtained  a  momentum  of  activity,  an 
energy  of  enterprise,  which  continued  to  impel  him 
through  life.  He  had  acquired  a  copious,  flexible, 
extempore  utterance,  a  power  of  suiting  his  thought  to 
the  audience,  an  aptitude  in  moulding  to  his  purpose 
the  lessons  of  passing  events.  A  Western  audience, 
in  those  days,  was  held  by  no  conventionality,  and 
would  go  out  at  any  point  of  the  speaker's  address, 


78  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

when  his  attraction  ceased.  He  must  interest,  or  have 
no  hearers,  and  when  he  ceased  to  interest  he  had 
immediate  notice  of  it  by  a  vanishing  audience.  Thus 
the  student  gained  an  admirable  discipline  in  the  school 
of  human  nature,  and  learned  to  "  catch  men." 

In  the  classic  shades  of  Cambridge  our  student  now 
devoted  himself  to  study,  contemplation,  reasoning, 
and  prayer.  Those  momentous  themes  of  humanity, 
redemption,  immortality,  and  heaven,  the  eternal  in- 
terests of .  the  soul,  which  have  exercised  the  most 
earnest  intellects  through  all  the  ages  of  man,  he 
zealously  dwelt  upon,  grappling  with  doctrinal  ques- 
tions, settling  his  own  convictions,  and  studying  modes 
of  reasoning  by  which  to  impress  his  convictions  on 
others.  Yet  he  was  so  far  a  practical  man,  that  he 
could  take  no  cloister-like  pleasure  in  reading  and 
reflection,  and  was  incessantly  seeking  the  most  avail- 
able application  of  truth  to  life,  the  associated  life  of 
the  race  of  man. 

Vacation  was  the  signal  for  him  to  engage  in  some 
new  expedition  as  a  preacher.  The  first  was  usefully 
spent  in  Montague,  Massachusetts.  Five  persons,  dur- 
ing his  ministration,  joined  the  church  in  this  place, 
which  had  not  for  three  years  before  had  a  single  addi- 
tion. He  also  lectured  on  temperance  to  a  crowded 
house.  His  second  whiter  vacation  he  spent  in  preach- 
ing at  Windsor,  Vermont.  He  writes  home  from  here, 
describing  his  labors  apart  from  his  regular  Sabbath 
preaching :  "  I  have  established  a  Bible-class,  which 
includes  young  and  old,  and  meets  on  Tuesday  even- 
ings; also  a  Sabbath  school  which  I  superintend  my- 
self ;  and  I  preach  on  Thursday  evenings.  My  tune 


DIVINITY  SCHOOL.  79 

is  all  taken  up.  Last  Sunday  evening  fifty  persons 
assembled  to  see  me  at  my  residence."  Again  he 
writes  :  "  I  know  that  I  am  a  miserable  correspondent 
this  winter  ;  but  I  am  hurried,  hurried,  hurried.  The 
society  is  deeply  interested  now  in  the  concerns  of 
religion,  and  I  have  to  visit  a  great  deal  and  write  two 
sermons  .every  week  in  addition.  I  prefer  to  write 
discourses,  as  being  at  present  best  for  me.  My  audi- 
ences have  largely  increased,  and  I  believe  I  am  doing 
some  good." 

He  seemed  to  hear  the  sighing  of  the  prisoner  in 
the  State  penitentiary  established  at  Windsor,  and 
could  not  be  content  without  visiting  that  institution. 
He  writes  in  reference  to  it  as  follows  :  — 

"  The  humane  efforts  of  those  who  have  charge  of 
the  convicts  have  done  much  to  alleviate  the  suffering 
inevitably  attendant  upon  long  confinement,  and  great 
exertion  is  made  to  provide  for  the  best  interests  of 
those  whose  crimes  have  brought  them  into  this  gloomy 
place.  It  caused  me,  however,  some  surprise  as  well 
as  gratification  to  hear,  as  I  approached  the  door,  the 
voices  of  many  strong  men  united  in  singing ;  and  I 
never  felt  more  thankful  to  God  for  the  power  of 
music  to  soften  and  purify  the  heart,  than  when  look- 
ing upon  that  band  of  prisoners  whose  whole  attention 
seemed  absorbed  by  their  song.  It  was  my  purpose  to 
deliver  a  temperance  lecture,  since  intoxication  in  this 
State,  as  well  as  throughout  the  civilized  world,  is  the 
prolific  source  of  crime.  The  convicts,  I  found,  were 
practising  temperance  melodies.  It  was  touching  to 
hear  the  strains  of  that  household  song,  '  Long  ago,' 
echoed  amid  those  gloomy  walls  ;  and  as  I  gazed  upon 


80  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

countenances  where  sin  and  painful  thought  had  writ- 
ten somewhat  variant  lines,  I  could  not  but  believe 
many  were  thinking  of  bygone  and  innocent  days, 
when  brighter  hopes  illumined  their  pathway,  when 
guilt  had  stained  neither  hand  nor  heart.  Nor  was 
this  '  long  ago '  with  a  large  portion  of  that  number, 
who  were  yet  young,  scarce  having  reached  the  age 
of  twenty-five.  When  the  chaplain  told  me  how  few 
had  ever  been  under  religious  influences  in  childhood, 
and  that  most  of  them  had  been  neglected  boys,  edu- 
cated only  in  vice,  my  heart  refused  harshly  to  con- 
demn them,  nor  could  I  feel  anything  but  profound 
pity.  How  many,  now  honored  and  respected  by  the 
world,  would  have  been  equally  stained,  had  they  been 
nurtured  only  amid  scenes  of  infamy. 

"  I  incidentally  endeavored,  in  the  course  of  my  lec- 
ture, to  convince  the  auditory,  that  the  object  of  gov- 
ernment in  punishing  crime  is  to  protect  society ; 
yes,  often  to  protect  men  from  themselves ;  and  that, 
if  they  were  pardoned  to-morrow,  or  had  never  been 
detected,  punishment,  from  its  nature,  would  still  be 
inevitable,  because  conscience  would  harass  with  its 
bitter  reproaches,  and  they  would  have  known  their 
undiscovered  guilt  and  G-od  also. 

"  Upon  Monday,  I  accompanied  the  chaplain  once 
more  to  the  prison,  and  through  the  favor  of  its  officers 
was  allowed  to  converse  freely  with  any  of  the  con- 
victs. I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  satisfaction  this 
gave  me  ;  they  seemed  generally  so  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge their  wrong-doing,  to  be  penitent,  and  desirous  of 
reform.  Alas !  many  of  them  may  break  those  re- 
solves, or  the  world's  harsh  treatment  and  cold  scorn 


DIVINITY   SCHOOL.  81 

may  drive  them  once  again  to  mad  crime ;  yet  for 
some  I  believe  and  hope  better  things.  It  was  grati- 
fying to  find  men  who  at  least  were  not  cased  in  self- 
righteousness  and  vanity,  which  as  a  coat  of  mail 
shields  from  any  warnings.  The  wages  of  sin  had 
been  received  by  them,  and  the  coinage  was  burning 
and  fearful ;  that  these  men  knew.  Hardened  wretches 
there  were,  it  is  true ;  men  who  seemed  to  have  no 
mercy  for  themselves,  and  no  care  for  others ;  yet, 
thank  God,  I  am  not  their  judge. 

"  I  saw  Clifford,  who  murdered  his  wife  and  innocent 
children,  and  through  life  must  be  imprisoned.  He 
sat  in  his  cell  alone,  —  always  alone,  save  with  the  bit- 
ter musings  of  his  depraved  spirit.  Scarce  thirty 
eight,  and  looking  still  younger ;  he  rocked  to  and  fro, 
glaring  at  me  with  scowling  brow,  and  fierce,  mad  eye, 
while  my  few  words  through  his  grated  window  drew 
no  response.  Poor,  degraded  wreck  of  humanity,  — 
how  sullen  and  vindictive  !  No  word  has  passed  his 
lips  for  months,  but  brooding  over  the  past,  he  re- 
mains, refusing  all  sympathy,  all  counsel.  Yet  who 
can  tell  but  the  voice  of 'those  who  would  gladly  save 
him  from  himself  may  yet  arouse  some  smothered 
spark  of  feeling  in  that  scorched  and  seared  heart  ? 
Clifford  has  attempted  suicide,  but  failed,  miserably 
failed.  When  a  keeper  essayed  to  remove  him  from 
one  cell  to  another,  the  ferocious  convict  endeavored 
to  throw  him  over  the  balustrade,  and  thus  kill  one 
who  had  treated  him  only  with  kindness. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  how  that  wretched  man  looked 
upon  me ;  nor  did  I  fail  to  mark  how  fearful  is  the 
power  which  man  possesses  of  thus  stifling  nearly 

4*  P 


82  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

every  good  thought  or  germ  of  tenderness  implanted 
in  his  bosom.  How  low,  how  terribly  low  he,  '  made 
but  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,'  may  fall ! 

"  There  are  now  fifty-seven  prisoners ;  only  three 
of  whom  are  confined  for  murder,  and  one  even  of 
these  for  murder  in  the  second  degree,  having  com- 
mitted the  act  while  intoxicated.  There  is  but  one 
negro  among  the  whole  number,  an  abandoned,  des- 
perate fellow ;  his  crime,  murder.  Years  ago  he 
escaped  from  slavery,  and  who  of  us  can  tell  how 
much  that  burning  wrong  may  have  goaded  and  mad- 
dened, how  its  degradation,  more  bitter  than  death, 
more  cruel  than  the  grave,  may  have  cankered  the 
heart,  till  it  was  revengeful  and  beastly.  If  this  be  so, 
where,  where  rests  the  awful  responsibility  ?  Now  that 
corrupt  African  is  a  dangerous  being,  and  recks  little 
for  the  blood  of  those  who  would  control  his  passion- 
ate outbreaks. 

"  And  yet  another,  a  young  man,  drew  my  atten- 
tion. He  was  the  son  of  a  respectable  clergyman, 
was  scarce  twenty-one,  and  for  eight  long  years  must 
render  unrequited  and  silent  toil.  O  how  deeply 
affecting  to  gaze  upon  his  handsome,  intelligent  face, 
and  to  hear  him  talk  of  those  whose  affections  he  had 
crushed  and  hopes  blighted  !  '  I  shall  be  almost  thirty 
when  released,'  he  said,  as  he  turned  his  dark  eyes 
upon  me,  who  attempted  to  teach  him  how  much  of 
life  would  still  remain  to  him ;  that  he  might  yet  be 
happy,  if  here  he  resolved  to  do  well  and  wisely  for 
coming  time.  Idleness  and  bad  company  had  wrought 
the  dark  thread  in  the  cord  of  life  for  this  young  man. 
Temptation  had  thus  made  him  her  victim  ;  and  now 


DIVINITY   SCHOOL.  83 

where  were  those  companions  ?  How  many  of  them 
ever  thought  of  his  misery,  or  laughed  less  loudly 
from  the  thought  of  his  sad  fate  ?  But  there  are  those 
who  do  care  for  him ;  those  who  often  love  most  ten- 
derly the  erring  and  world-forsaken,  —  his  mother, 
and  his  family.  He  spoke  of  the  letters  his  mother 
wrote  him,  and  which  were  angel  visitants  to  his  sad 
cell. 

"  There  is  a  strong  desire  manifested  by  some  of  the 
convicts  to  learn  to  sing,  and  one  of  their  number  has 
been  a  teacher  of  music.  But  they  have  no  singing- 
books  nor  means  of  procuring  them.  A  very  few  tem- 
perance melodies,  which  those  already  knowing  common 
tunes  can  sing,  are  all  which  have  enabled  them  to  have 
any  singing.  Of  course  methodical  instruction  is  now 
out  of  the  question.  Yet  what  greater  solace  or  benefit 
to  the  poor  prisoner  than  music  ?  Perhaps  nothing  could 
avail  to  soften  his  heart  more  ;  and  shall  such  means  be 
denied  ?  One  of  the  reasons  of  that  joyous  welcome, 
'  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,'  which  it  is  the  Chris- 
tian's hope  to  receive,  is  that  the  prisoner  has  been 
visited.  If  any  cannot  visit  personally,  send  those 
books  which  shall  seek  out  the  erring,  nor  loathe  their 
cells.  Idleness  and  bad  company  brought  many  a 
wretched  one  to  these  dark  walls  ;  let  them  be  taught 
an  accomplishment  which  shall  be  a  companion  in  soli- 
tude. Afford  them  innocent  and  useful  recreation, 
and  you  have  done  much  to  guard  from  temptation. 
Let  the  plaintive  song  of  penitence  echo  within  these 
walls,  and  hearts  may  be  touched  where  otherwise 
no  chord  could  vibrate.  Those  convicts  have  been 
promised  by  me  six,  or,  if  possible  to  get  them,  twelve 


84  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

copies  either  of  the  '  Carmina  Sacra'  or  '  Boston  Acad- 
emy's Collection  '  of  music.  Let  no  person  think  my 
promise  unadvised ;  for  whether  these  books  can  be  got 
of  others  or  not,  no  self-denial  would  be  equal  to  that 
of  allowing  such  an  opportunity  for  good  to  pass  unim- 
proved." 

At  the  close  of  vacation,  our  student  returned  to 
Cambridge,  and  at  the  end  of  the  term  regularly 
graduated  from  the  Divinity  School. 

He  now  felt  fully  prepared  for  the  great  work  of  the 
Christian  ministry.  The  spiritual  unction,  the  facile 
speech  and  animated  delivery,  had  secured  for  their 
auxiliary  in  the  Christian  warfare  a  sound  learning, 
derived  from  books  "  rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,"  to- 
gether with  intellectual  method  and  discipline.  Would 
that  the  physical  man  had  been  meet  to  sustain  the 
spiritual  flame  I  But  in  this  respect  a  disproportion 
between  the  mind  and  body  at  once  struck  the  ob- 
server. His  figure,  of  a  medium  height,  all  alive  with 
the  restless  nervous  temperament,  showed  a  chest  too 
narrow  to  be  in  equilibrium  with  the  largely  developed 
brain.*  The  mind  constantly  advanced  beyond  its  un- 
equal yoke-fellow,  the  body,  and  the  latter  frequently 
gave  out  in  the  course. 

*  His  head  measured  twenty-three  and  a  half  inches.  It  may  interest 
some  readers  to  learn  that  his  head  was  once  examined  by  Mr.  Fowler, 
the  well-known  phrenologist,  whose  chart  indicates  ideality,  benevolence, 
and  the  reasoning  faculties  as  his  leading  traits,  with  a  full  development 
of  moral  and  religious  character.  Let  this  go  for  what  it  is  worth.  Our 
own  observation  has  led  us  to  think  the  contents  of  a  head  more  important 
than  its  capacity. 


PART    II. 

THE    NEW    ENGLAND    CLERGYMAN. 


"Work  of  his  hand 
He  nor  commends  nor  grieves. 
Speaks  for  itself  the  fact ; 
As  unrepentant  Nature  leaves 
Her  every  act " 

EMERSON. 


CHAPTER    I. 


MANCHESTER. 


"  Though  meek  and  patient  aa  a  sheathed  sword, 
Though  pride's  least  lurking  thought  appear  a  wrong 
To  human  kind  ;  though  peace  be  on  his  tongue, 
Gentleness  in  his  heart ;  can  earth  afford 
Such  genuine  state,  pre-eminence  so  free, 
As  when,  arrayed  in  Christ's  authority, 
He  from  the  pulpit  lifts  his  awful  hand, 
Conjures,  implores,  and  labors  all  he  can 
For  resubjecting  to  divine  command 
The  stubborn  spirit  of  rebellious  man  ? " 

WORDSWORTH. 


N  graduating  from  the  Divinity  School,  Arthur 
Fuller  preached  a  few  Sabbaths  at  Albany, 
New  York.  Here,  he  writes,  "  I  have  been 
attending  a  course  of  antislavery  lectures 
by  Frederick  Douglass,  the  fugitive  slave,  and  have 
become  greatly  interested."  The  field  of  religious 
labor  in  Albany  seemed  too  arduous  for  his  then  state 
of  health.  He  says :  "I  will  tell  you  what  is  the 
strong  desire  of  my  heart,  —  a  good  large  parish  in 
the  country.  I  wish  a  religious  society ;  for  I  believe 
my  motives  in  entering  the  ministry  are,  in  all  sincerity 
and  humility,  to  save  souls.  This  is  no  idle  talk  with 
me,  as  you  will  believe.  And  this  doing  good,  in  a 
contented,  quiet,  conscientious  way,  is  my  ambition." 
On  returning  to  Massachusetts  he  was  engaged  to  take 


88  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

the  place  of  Rev.  Edward  T.  Taylor,  the  Bethel 
preacher  in  Boston,  usually  styled  "  Father  Taylor,'* 
who  was  to  be  absent  about  three  months.  It  was  no 
easy  task  to  hold  the  attention  of  the  rough  salts 
who  made  up  a  good  part  of  the  audience,  and  who 
were  habituated  to  the  dramatic  preaching  and  truly 
'  wonderful  though  eccentric  eloquence  of  Father  Tay- 
lor.* But  here  Western  experience  stood  our  preacher 
in  good  stead.  He  made  the  billows  roll  in  his  dis- 
course, and  levied  contributions  from  Neptune's  every 
mood,  to  arrest  the  ear,  and  depict  in  nautical  guise 
the  Divine  truth. 

On  the  return  of  Father  Taylor,  our  young  minister 
preached  for  three  months  at  West  Newton,  Massa- 
chusetts, when  he  received  and  accepted  a  call  from 
Manchester,  New  Hampshire.  Here  he  was  soon  after 
duly  ordained.  The  condition  of  the  church  and  soci- 
ety when  he  assumed  the  charge  is  thus  depicted  in 
an  editorial  article  in  the  Manchester  Mirror :  — 

"  The  Unitarian  Society  in  this  place,  like  a  youth 
of  early  promise,  on  which  consumption  had  laid  its 
wasting  hand,  seemed  to  be  fast  sinking  into  a  prema- 
ture grave.  Its  dissolution  was  so  strongly  anticipated 
by  some  of  its  scanty  members,  that  a  few  of  those 
who  had  helped  by  their  money  and  influence  to  sus- 
tain it  for  years  left  it,  from  reluctance  to  witness  its 
dying  struggles,  and  connected  themselves  with  other 
societies.  Still  there  were  a  few  who,  crowned  with 

*  An  instance  of  Father  Taylor's  style  occurs  to  memory,  •which  will 
illustrate  his  figurative  speech.  In  a  very  dry  time  he  had  been  requested 
to  pray  for  rain,  and  complied  in  the  following  terms :  "  0  Lord,  the  thirsty 
earth  sends  up  its  prayer  to  thee  in  clouds  of  dust!  " 


MANCHESTER.  89 

that  rich  jewel,  Hope,  continued  to  strive  on  against 
the  calumny  of  foes  and  worse  desertion  of  friends. 

"In  this  their  darkest  hour,  Providence  sent  to 
them  a  pale  student,  whose  physical  frame,  tender  as 
the  summer  plant,  seemed  ill-adapted  to  feed  a  robust 
brain,  and  little  fitted  to  endure  the  toil  requisite  to 
the  performance  of  the  arduous  and  often  perplexing 
duties  of  pastor  to  a  society  which  had  hardly  a  name 
to  live.  The  gentleman  had  been  sent  to  supply  the 
pulpit  for  only  one  Sabbath,  yet  with  but  little  inter- 
mission he  has  supplied  it  ever  since.  We  need  not 
say  the  person  above  alluded  to  is  their  present  effi- 
cient and  eloquent  pastor,  Arthur  B.  Fuller."  The 
congregation,  when  he  commenced  his  labors,  says  the 
same  authority,  "  embraced  about  fifty  persons."  The 
church  was  at  a  low  ebb,  "attenuated  to  but  the 
square  of  two." 

Soon  a  change  passed  over  this  scene,  which  is  thus 
described  by  a  writer  in  the  Christian  Inquirer :  "  In 
his  (Rev.  A.  B.  Fuller's)  charge  at  Manchester,  New 
Hampshire,  I  was  permitted  to  see  a  congregation 
vitalized  by  his  fervor  and  permeated  by  his  Method- 
istic  spirit.  I  had  known  the  church  when  it  was 
feeble,  lifeless,  and  doubting.  Under  him,  it  changed 
as  by  a  miracle,  as  no  one  thought  of  withstanding  his 
influence  :  old  and  young  were  brought  into  an  earnest 
sympathy  with  their  pastor,  as  beautiful  as  it  is  rare. 
Other  denominations  gathered  closely  around  him, 
whom  they  call  Orthodox  daid  Evangelical.  The 
pews  were  full  as  often  as  he  was  able  to  occupy  the 
pulpit.  Prayer-meetings,  which  he  loved  more  than 
any  of  us,  were  a  perfect  success." 


90  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

The  pastor's  earnestness  and  eloquence  had  a  deep 
foundation.  He  believed  himself  in  a  perishing  world, 
whose  only  hope  is  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He 
recognized  the  need  of  regeneration.  These  great 
doctrines  are  well  suited  to  kindle  the  ardor  and  nerve 
the  energy  of  one  who  loves  God  and  man,  and  who 
feels  himself  called  to  preach  the  everlasting  Gospel. 
But  it  was  not  merely  the  necessity  of  religion :  it  was 
the  delight  which  the  preacher  felt  in  the  law  of  his 
God,  the  deep  joy  of  heavenly  communion,  the  foun- 
tain of  immortal  satisfaction,  which  he  partook  of  in 
the  contemplation  of  God's  attributes  of  love,  majesty, 
and  power,  which  gave  for  him  divine  charms  to  tem- 
ple worship  and  the  meetings  for  social  prayer.  Nor 
was  religion  with  him  an  insulated  sentiment  or  emo- 
tion, without  a  leavening  influence  on  the  associate 
traits  of  character.  The  whole  man  was  pervaded  by 
it.  It  gave  and  received  influence  from  the  intellect 
and  the  practical  life.  His  preaching  partook  of  this 
character,  seeking  to  thread  all  the  mazes  of  life  with 
the  pervasive  irrigation  of  religion ;  to  make  religion 
practical,  and  the  practical  religious  ;  to  render  the  in- 
tellect religious,  and  religion  intellectual ;  to  secure 
the  joint,  harmonious  action  of  mind  and  heart ;  to 
cherish  aspiration,  not  as  a  detached  emotion,  but  as 
the  normal,  combined  operation  of  all  the  faculties  in 
every  channel  of  activity. 

"We  had  the  pleasure,"  says  an  editorial  in  the 
Manchester  Mirror,  speaking  of  the  Rev.  A.  B.  Fuller, 
"of  listening  to  a  discourse  by  this  pastor,  in  which 
was  developed  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  his  success 
among  the  people,  which  consists  not  more  in  his 


MANCHESTER.  91 

chaste  and  flowery  language  and  winning  style,  than 
in  his  presentation  of  the  great  practicability  and  adap- 
tation of  Christianity  to  all  the  purposes  of  life.  In 
his  discourse,  he  entered  familiarly  into  all  the  social 
and  business  relations  of  man  with  his  fellows ;  show- 
ing the  imperative  duty  of  honest  dealing  in  buying 
and  selling,  as  well  as  in  our  social  relations  to  be 
guided  by  the  Christian  sentiment  of  love  and  good- 
will one  towards  another,  our  obligation  to  have  our 
religion  manifested  by  works  each  day  of  the  week 
as  well  as  on  the  Sabbath,  and  not  to  clasp  in  our 
Bibles  or  lock  up  in  our  churches  our  religious  ob- 
ligations and  duties.  Religion  has  something  to  do 
with  the  whole  man ;  and  those  who  profess  Christian- 
ity, and  would  adorn  their  profession,  should  follow  its 
teachings,  and  carry  into  practice  its  requirements,  at 
all  times  and  all  places  and  under  all  circumstances." 

He  was  very  conscious  of  the  importance  of  pastoral 
visiting  to  success  in  the  ministry,  and  assiduous  in 
paying  visits,  encouraging  his  people  also  to  call  on 
him.  Yet,  to  prevent  this  part  of  his  duty  from  en- 
croaching seriously  upon  his  labors  in  the  study,  he 
arranged  a  system  of  proceeding.  He  writes :  "  I 
have  adopted  regular  rules  for  the  employment  of  my 
time,  and  find  it  advantageous.  I  give  notice  of  it  to 
my  people,  that  they  may  observe  my  hours." 

The  influence  of  the  prayers  of  the  new  pastor,  and 
of  his  exposition  of  truth,  through  the  Divine  blessing, 
became  more  and  more  manifest,  not  merely  in  an 
increasing  audience,  but,  what  was  better,  in  an  awak- 
ened religious  interest,  and  souls  gathered  in  as  the 
precious  seals  of  his  ministry.  The  Divine  grace, 


92  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

falling  first  as  the  noiseless  but  refreshing  dew,  then 
in  occasional  reviving  drops,  descended  at  length  in  a 
blessed  shower. 

"  Yesterday,"  he  writes,  "  was  the  happiest  day  of  my 
ministerial  life.  My  society  has  heretofore  prospered 
outwardly  and  to  a  certain  extent  in  religious  things  ; 
but  there  has  been  at  no  one  time  any  united  movement 
such  as  is  often  termed  a  revival,  and  in  which  many 
souls  at  once  seem  full  of  concern,  and  others  obtain  a 
bright  and  blessed  life.  But  for  the  few  past  weeks 
there  has  been  that  earnest  state  of  feeling,  and  yes- 
terday some  seven  persons  presented  themselves  be- 
fore the  altar  to  unite  with  Christ's  visible  Church, 
and  consecrate  their  lives  to  his  service.  It  was  a 
morning  of  deep  feeling.  The  whole  congregation 
were  moved,  and  all  those  to  whom  I  spoke  at  noon 
seemed  much  affected,  most  even  to  tears.  This  is 
but  the  beginning  of  a  true  revival  of  pure  religion 
and  self-consecration,  as  I  hope  and  believe.  I  rejoice 
in  it.  In  my  mind  there  is  no  prejudice  against  a  well- 
conducted  and  carefully  guarded  movement  of  this 
kind,  in  which  excess  does  not  necessarily  mingle. 
Give  me  even  excitement  rather  than  apathy.  Those 
who  united  yesterday  were  influential  business  men 
and  most  devoted  women.  I  could  tell  you  sweet 
things  about  nearly  all  of  them.  To-morrow  evening, 
we  hold  a  meeting  of  the  church,  to  be  followed  by  a 
meeting  of  inquirers,  in  which  we  shall  set  our  church 
all  to  work,  and  answer  the  questions  of  those  who 
long  to  know  what  they  shall  do  to  be  saved.  Rejoice 
with  me,  dear  brother,  that  such  a  season  of  refresh- 
ing and  revival  is  now  vouchsafed  to  my  church  and 
society." 


MANCHESTER.  93 

In  the  pastor's  success  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
he  encountered  no  difficulties,  no  discouragements. 
He  always  had  his  full  share  of  conflict  with  obstacles  ; 
but,  armed  with  the  shield  of  faith,  the  helmet  of  salva- 
tion, and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  he  did  not  yield,  nor 
withhold  the  counsel  of  God. 

At  one  time  the  most  wealthy  and  influential  man 
in  the  society,  the  pillar  and  mainstay,  was  exasperated 
by  an  earnest  sermon  against  the  great  wrong  of  slav- 
ery, and  dwelling  upon  the  black  crimes  the  slave 
power  had  perpetrated  by  the  aid  of  a  supple  North. 
The  gentleman  called  on  the  pastor,  and  told  him 
that  sermon  had  determined  him  to  quit  the  society, 
and  connect  himself  with  that  of  another  denomina- 
tion. The  pastor  received  this  announcement  in  a 
very  different  manner  from  what  had  been  antici- 
pated. He  assured  his  parishioner  that  he  approved 
of  his  resolution.  "I  have  preached  to  you,"  said 
he,  "  a  considerable  period  of  time,  and  with  little 
apparent  effect.  Probably  my  mode  of  presenting 
truth  is  not  adapted  to  your  case.  I  hope  a  style  of 
preaching  which  dwells  more  habitually  upon  the 
sterner  themes  of  Divine  truth  may  affect  your  heart." 

The  parishioner,  finding  he  should  not  punish  the 
minister  by  going  to  another  church,  declared  he 
would  not  go  to  any.  The  pastor  expressed  sor- 
row, but  would  not  yield  an  iota  of  the  independence 
of  the  pulpit,  in  preaching  the  whole  counsel  of 
God.  There  the  matter  dropped,  and  there  for  some 
months  it  rested.  The  pastor,  meanwhile,  was  always 
courteous  when  he  met  the  lost  parishioner.  At  length 
as  he  was  passing  one  day  the  bank  with  which  the 


94  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

gentleman  was  connected,  he  was  surprised  to  notice 
his  ex-friend  beckoning  to  him  to  enter.  What  was 
to  come  off  he  could  not  imagine,  but  he  expected 
nothing  agreeable.  On  entering  he  was  requested  to 
be  seated  by  the  former  parishioner,  who  was  writing 
at  a  desk.  He  patiently  complied,  and  presently  his 
parishioner,  approaching,  placed  in  his  hand  a  check 
for  twenty-five  dollars,  saying,  "  Mr.  Fuller,  I  respect 
you  for  your  independence,  and  I  give  you  that  as  a 
token  of  my  appreciation."  The  pastor  was  much 
affected,  and  felt  inwardly  to  thank  God,  not  so  much 
on  his  own  account,  as  for  the  change  which  had  been 
wrought  in  his  parishioner. 

The  harmony  between  them  was  never  afterward 
interrupted.  The  parishioner  would  listen  quietly  as 
a  lamb  to  the  occasional  philippics  which  the  pulpit 
did  not  neglect  to  thunder  against  "  the  sum  of  all 
villanies."  The  parishioner  died  not  long  after,  be- 
queathing a  handsome  legacy  to  the  society,  and  his 
pastor  delivered  an  affecting  eulogy  upon  the  departed. 
Was  it  not  better  for  the  clergyman  thus  to  do  and 
dare,  trusting  in  the  Lord  ?  Was  it  not  far  better  for 
the  parishioner  ?  Was  he  not  taught  to  trust  the 
sincerity  and  fidelity  of  the  pastor,  who  he  saw  would 
not  yield  his  Master's  cause  to  the  pressure  of  golden 
influence  ? 

Our  pastor  encountered  also  a  similar  temporary 
reverse  with  a  most  happy  ultimate  result,  in  his  pulpit 
presentation  of  the  cause  of  temperance,  —  a  subject 
which  he  not  only  advocated  zealously  to  secular  as- 
semblies, but  pressed  home  upon  his  people  with  his 
characteristic  earnestness. 


MANCHESTER.  95 

He  had  prepared  a  temperance  address,  which  he 
delivered  in  a  neighboring  town  on  a  special  occasion  ; 
and,  impressed  .with  the  religious  importance  of  his 
theme,  he  threw  it  into  the  sermon  form,  and  delivered 
it  from  his  pulpit.  It  happened  that  a  wealthy  man  in 
his  society  was  engaged  in  the  sale  of  spirituous  liquors. 
He  took  umbrage  at  the  sermon,  declared  it  was  per- 
sonal, and  written  expressly  for  him,  and  he  would  go 
to  meeting  no  more.  So  he  retired,  like  Achilles  to 
his  tent.  But  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  persuade  his 
children  to  the  like  course  ;  for  they  were  attached  to 
their  pastor,  who  always  loved  children,  and  drew 
them  closely  to  him  in  the  Sabbath  school,  and  had  a 
smile  and  pleasant  word  for  them  wherever  he  met 
them,  calling  his  lambs  by  name,  occasionally  too 
devoting  a  half-day  service  and  sermon  especially  to 
them.  Nor  was  the  wife  willing  to  forego  her  religious 
privileges  for  the  grievance  of  her  lord.  So  the  rest 
of  the  family  still  attended  church,  and  the  head  of 
the  household  was  thus  often  reminded  that  there  was 
such  an  institution,  and,  strange  to  say,  it  was  still  in 
progress,  notwithstanding  his  dereliction. 

Meanwhile  the  pastor  was  equally  civil  to  the  father 
when  he  met  him,  and  equally  cordial  toward  the  rest 
of  the  family.  At  length  the  wife  asked  him  if  he 
could  not  send  some  message  to  her  husband,  who  was 
by  no  means  happy,  yet,  with  the  fancy  rankling  in  his 
mind  that  the  offensive  sermon  was  written  especially 
for  him,  could  not  be  reconciled.  The  pastor  said  that 
he  had  nothing  to  take  back  about  the  sermon  ;  but  if 
it  would  be  any  relief  to  her  husband,  she  could  tell 
him  that  it  was  originally  written  as  a  temperance 


96  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

lecture  to  be  delivered  in  another  locality,  and  with 
no  thought  of  him.  Now  again  the  relieved  parish- 
ioner appeared  in  his  place  at  church.  He  did  not, 
however,  expect  the  pastor  to  refrain  from  temperance 
sermons.  Nor  did  he  now  wish  it,  for  he  himself 
gave  up  the  traffic  in  spirituous  liquors,  and  put  his 
hand  to  the  temperance  cause. 

Not  long  afterward,  on  a  dark  night,  two  men  found 
their  way  with  a  lantern  to  the  pastor's  residence,  to 
engage  him  to  give  a  lecture  on  temperance  in  a 
neighboring  town.  One  of  them  was  the  reconciled 
parishioner!  What  an  unlooked-for  issue  was  this 
to  the  difficulty !  What  a  sunshine  succeeding  the 
shadow  which  had  briefly  rested  on  the  faithful  preach- 
er's heart !  For,  though  persevering  in  fidelity  to 
his  appointed  duty  as  watchman  on  Zion's  walls,  he 
could  not  be  indifferent  to  the  hearts  which  he  must 
alienate  in  proclaiming  the  Divine  displeasure  with 
iniquity. 

In  Manchester,  as  everywhere  in  his  ministerial 
labors,  our  pastor  loved  that  garden  of  the  Lord 
where  the  buds  of  childhood  and  the  opening  bloom 
of  youth  are  fostered,  a  favorite  resort  of  the  Divine 
Gardener,  where  he  finds  a  sweet  perfume,  —  the 
Sabbath  school.  In  a  sermon  relative  to  the  share  of 
duty  which  falls  to  the  congregation,  in  the  joint  work 
of  pastor  and  people,  he  says  :  "  This  city  contains 
hundreds,  perhaps  a  thousand  children,  who  are  mem- 
bers of  no  Sabbath  school,  and  who  seldom  or  never 
enter  a  church.  If  you  think  this  a  high  estimate,  go 
to  those  who  have  searched,  and  you  will  be  astonished 
at  your  previous  incredulity.  Now  shall  we  do  noth- 


MANCHESTER.  97 

ing  to  gather  these  souls,  fast  contracting  the  taint  of 
vice  and  corruption,  into  the  place  of  religious  instruc- 
tion ?  Great  God  !  is  it  nothing  to  us  that  these  little 
ones,  for  whom  Christ  died,  and  whom  he  has  pro- 
nounced our  own  brethren,  are  treading  the  highway 
to  death,  trained  only  in  iniquity  and  crime  ?  " 

He  says,  on  another  occasion,  in  enforcing  parental 
duty  :  "  Begin,  dear  parents,  early  to  teach  your  chil- 
dren religion.  I  am  persuaded  that  many,  very  many, 
are  converted  in  childhood,  and  so  in  very  youth 
ripened  for  heaven.  Yes ;  there  are  parents  in  my 
audience  who  know,  either  of  the  living  or  departed, 
that  this  is  gloriously  true  !  The  seeds  of  sin,  too, 
sown  in  the  heart  of  childhood,  or  found  already  there, 
will  spring  up  to  yield  a  fatal  harvest,  unless  by  prayer 
and  effort  parents  early  begin  to  educate  their  children 
for  heaven.  Else  must  the  parents  be  called  to  com- 
fortless mourning  for  their  offspring,  and  bitter  memo- 
ries be  garnered  in  conscience,  even  for  eternity." 

We  find  our  pastor,  too,  at  Manchester  laboring  as 
one  of  the  committee  of  the  public  schools,  and  lectur- 
ing on  moral  and  educational  topics  to  promiscuous 
assemblies.  He  advocated  there  and  in  neighboring 
towns  the  passage  of  the  Maine  Law.  He  delivered 
courses  of  lectures,  giving  sketches  of  prominent  Scrip- 
ture personages  ;  also  upon  the  respective  duties  of 
parents  and  children,  and  the  sphere  of  woman.  He 
spoke  to  teachers'  institutes  and  literary  associations. 
In  a  published  address  he  delivered  before  the  Acad- 
emy in  Bedford,  New  Hampshire,  he  indicates  the 
religious  importance  of  education  in  the  following 
terms. 

5  O 


98  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  It  is  our  sincere  opinion,  that  intellectual  cul- 
ture is  immortal  in  its  tendency  and  nature,  and  by 
strengthening  man's  mental  faculties,  increases  his 
capacities  for  bliss  and  the  acquisition  of  spiritual 
knowledge  hereafter.  The  mind,  the  thought,  can 
never  die  ;  they  live  on,  immortal  as  God  from  whom 
they  came.  I  could  not  advocate  so  earnestly  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  if  limited  to  this  brief  life. 
I  plead  for  it,  because  philosophy  and  just  reasoning 
teach  us  that  such  acquisition  is  of  eternal  value,  and 
fits  for  a  higher  sphere  of  spiritual  enjoyment  hereafter. 

44 1  have  been  grieved  sometimes  to  hear  Christian 
men  and  women  speak  slightingly  and  disparagingly 
of  human  learning.  Ah,  Christian  !  where  were  that 
Bible  you  value,  save  for  that  human  learning  which 
translated  it  into  a  language  familiar  to  your  ear  ? 
Where  were  it,  had  not  some  poor  wise  man  discov- 
ered the  art  of  printing?  Where  would  have  been 
the  Protestant  Reformation,  had  not  Luther  known 
other  languages  than  his  own,  and  translated  from  the 
"  crooked  Greek  "  the  Book  of  books,  for  the  use  of 
the  common  people  ?  Christian !  look  again  at  your 
Bible,  ere  you  deprecate  human  learning,  or  array 
yourself  against  the  friends  of  education ;  for 

'  Piety  hath  found  friends 
In  the  friends  of  science,  and  true  prayer 
Hath  flowed  from  lips  wet  with  Castalian  dews.' 

"  All  honor  to  our  Puritan  forefathers  !  They  were 
not  indeed  perfect ;  but  their  faults  were  those  of  their 
age,  while  their  virtues  were  not  of  their  age,  but,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  their  own.  Long  may  the  church 
and  school-house  stand,  as  they  wisely  placed  them, 


MANCHESTER.  99 

side  by  side,  each  as  a  safeguard  against  the  mistakes 
of  the  other.  To  the  educated  clergy  of  New  Eng- 
land and  their  zeal  for  knowledge,  to  their  early  estab- 
lishment of  schools  and  universities,  is  due  much  of 
our  prosperity,  our  greatness." 

Having  thus  slightly  sketched  the  pastor's  labors,  we 
glance  now  at  the  home  where  his  heart  rested  and 
his  mind  composed.  For  more  than  a  year  his  mother 
was  housekeeper  at  the  parsonage.  In  a  letter,  he  thus 
refers  to  her :  "  She  is  quite  well  now,  yet  has  not 
much  strength,  nor  will  she  ever  have  again.  Her 
years  press  heavily  upon  her ;  yet  in  her  feelings  she 
can  never  grow  old."  In  another  letter,  nearly  of  the 
same  date,  he  says  :  "  This  is  mother's  birthday.  She 
speaks  of  you  with  that  love  which  so  tender  a  mother 
uniformly  feels  for  her  children.  To-day  she  is  sixty- 
one.  Her  years  with  us  must  now  be  few.  May  we 
do  all  in  our  power  to  make  those  few  happy." 

In  the  same  letter  he  thus  refers  to  his  sister  Mar- 
garet :  "  She  is  a  most  affectionate  and  gifted  sister. 
We  have  in  our  family  all  the  elements  requisite  for 
great  happiness."  Alas  !  that  happiness  was  destined 
to  a  tragical  interruption  ! 

"  Life  is  a  sea.    How  fair  its  face, 
How  smooth  its  dimpled  waters  pace, 
Its  canopy  how  pure ! 
Yet  hidden  storms  and  tempests  sleep 
Beneath  the  surface  of  the  deep, 
Nor  leave  an  hour  secure." 

The  kindred  tie  linking  the  hearts  of  this  family 
together  was  strong  and  affectionate.  Especially  Mar- 
garet was  regarded  with  loving  pride  by  the  dear 
brothers  and  sister  for  whom  she  had  sacrificed  so 


100  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

much,  and  by  the  widowed  parent* who  had  leaned  on 
her  in  place  of  the  staff  death  had  stricken  from  her 
hands.  One  way  the  mother  had  of  expressing  her 
affection  in  life,  and  her  love  stronger  than  death,  was 
in  the  culture  of  her  daughter's  favorite  flowers,  fos- 
tered in  the  garden,  and  ultimately  cherished  to  breathe 
the  balmy  incense  of  affectionate  memory  over  the 
cenotaph,  commemorating  the  daughter  when  her  spirit 
and  body  alike  could  no  more  be  found  in  earth. 

She  thus  in  a  letter  exhorts  her  son  :  "I  wish  you 
to  pay  especial  attention  to  Margaret's  favorites,  sweet 
pease,  mignonette,  and  mourning  bride.  Many  bou- 
quets have  I  made  of  them  for  her." 

Margaret,  on  her  part,  fully  reciprocated  her  moth- 
er's affection.  She  writes  to  Arthur,  anticipating  her 
return  home  again  from  foreign  lands :  "I  hope  to 
find  you  in  your  home,  and  make  you  a  good  visit 
there.  Your  invitation  is  sweet  in  its  tone,  and  rouses 
a  vision  of  summer  woods  and  New  England  Sabbath 
morning  bells.  It  seems  to  me,  from  your  letter  and 
mother's,  that  she  is  at  last  in  her  true  sphere.  Watch 
over  her  carefully,  and  do  not  let  her  do  too  much. 
Her  spirit  is  only  too  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak, 
and  her  life  is  precious  to  us  all." 

But  the  time  had  now  come  for  death  to  make 
another  breach  in  the  family,  prostrating  Margaret,  its 
noble  column,  and  this  by  an  assault  singularly  un- 
expected and  severe. 

She  had  been  absent  on  the  Continent  for  three 
years.  During  this  time  she  had  been  united  in  mar- 
riage with  a  noble  Roman,  captain  of  the  Civic  Guard, 
and  a  brave  combatant  in  the  Italian  struggle  begin- 


MANCHESTER.  101 

ning  in  1848,  which  martyred  so  many  patriotic  lives 
for  the  time  in  vain.  The  union  was  a  happy  one, 
and  is  thus  described  by  Mrs.  William  W.  Story  in 
a  letter  to  Mrs.  James  Russell  Lowell :  "  You  ask 
about  Margaret's  marriage.  I  think  she  has  chosen 
the  better  part  in  marrying.  Her  husband  is  noble  by 
nature  as  well  as  by  birth,  and  seems  more  the  lover 
now  than  even  before  marriage."  This  union  had 
been  blessed  by  the  birth  of  a  beautiful  boy. 

The  trio  were  on  their  return  voyage  in  the  summer 
of  1850,  and  the  mother,  brothers,  and  sister  were 
hourly  expecting  to  greet  again  that  loved  and  gifted 
member  of  their  family  circle  with  the  added  treasures 
of  affection  she  brought  with  her.  But  "  O  the  heavy 
change  !  "  The  paper  which  should  have  announced 
the  vessel's  arrival  contained  instead  an  awful  tele- 
gram, with  the  stunning  tidings  of  the  vessel's  wreck, 
and  the  graves  those  loved  voyagers  had  found  in  the 
tempestuous  sea ! 

The  family,  when  this  ill  news  flew  fast  to  them, 
lightning-winged,  were  waiting  to  repair  to  New  York, 
where  the  vessel  was  expected  to  arrive.  They  now 
went  thither,  —  but  how  sad  a  journey !  —  for  the 
vessel  had  foundered  on  Fire  Island,  an  exterior  bar- 
rier of  New  York  harbor.  When  they  reached  the 
scene  of  the  terrible  drama,  the  angry  sea,  not  yet 
calmed,  was  still  rolling  its  mountain  billows  over  the 
stranded  wreck,  its  poor  ruined  victim  swept  over  by 
its  waves  at  scarcely  a  stone's  throw  from  the  firm 
shore  where  the  grief-bowed  mother,  the  afflicted 
brothers  and  sister  in  vain  strained  their  eyes  into  the 
foamy  deep  to  catch  any  vestige  of  the  noble  and  loved 


102  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

form  of  Margaret.  The  body  of  the  babe  alone  the 
ruthless  ocean  relinquished,  after  life  was  exhausted,  to 
be  borne  away  for  burial  in  a  sweet  spot  watered  by 
tears  and  garlanded  by  living  flowers. 

The  mother  endured  this  sorrow  through  "  the  dear 
might  of  Him  who  walked  the  wave,"  and  who  will 
not  lay  upon  us  a  trial  greater  than  we  are  able 
to  bear.  But  she  contracted  from  it  (such  was  her 
physician's  opinion)  that  malady  which,  nine  years 
after,  terminated  her  mortal  career.  Arthur  bore  the 
affliction  with  fortitude.  He  writes  some  months  after- 
wards :  "  There  are  sad  memories  which  at  times  op- 
press me,  and  the  sense  of  the  loss  we  have  met  only 
grows  deeper  as  tune  passes.  But  I  know  it  is  not 
right  to  be  absorbed  by  these  griefs  ;  neither  right 
towards  those  living  in  this  world,  nor  those  living  in 
the  other ;  and  I  seek  only  to  remember  what  Mar- 
garet has  been,  is  still,  and  shall  be  to  us." 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  our  pastor  took  a  step 
which  had  been  deferred  by  the  family  bereavement, 
but  which  a  regard  for  his  afflicted  mother's  health,  no 
longer  adequate  to  a  housekeeper's  duties,  rendered  it 
prudent  to  delay  no  longer.  He  was  happily  united  in 
marriage  with  Elizabeth  G.  Davenport,  of  Mendon, 
Massachusetts.  We  will  describe  her  in  his  own 
words,  contained  in  a  family  letter :  "  I  find  one  who 
bears  with  me  my  burdens,  and  who  is  already  greatly 
beloved  by  my  people.  Gentle,  yet  uniformly  self- 
possessed,  she  deserves  and  always  secures  respect. 
It  is  a  great  relief,  too,  to  be  able  to  share  all  my 
thoughts  and  feelings  with  one  who  sympathizes  warmly 
with  me.  I  have  great  cause  to  be  thankful  to  God." 


MANCHESTER.  103 

It  is  sometimes  imagined  that  the  expansion  of  the 
heart  over  a  wide  field  comprising  multiplied  objects 
must  diminish  its  love  for  that  home  where  it  origi- 
nated, and  whence  it  has  enlarged  in  concentric  circles, 
like  the  smooth  surface  of  a  lake  into  which  some  list- 
less hand  has  dropped  a  pebble.  We  believe  this  to 
be  a  false  surmise.  Love  partakes  of  the  infinite  ca- 
pacity of  its  Divine  Original,  who  glories  in  it  as  his 
name,  and  it  "  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on,"  strength- 
ened in  its  first  generous  affections  by  its  enlarging 
range.  So  it  certainly  was  with  Arthur  Fuller.  His 
filial  and  brotherly  love  could  be  supplanted  by  no 
new  ties,  nor  by  his  unlimited  philanthropy.  Pleasing 
proofs  of  this  we  can  adduce  from  his  family  letters ;  a 
few  of  which  we  will  cite,  not  only  for  this  purpose, 
but  also  for  the  sentiment  they  contain,  and  the  light 
they  throw  upon  his  character. 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  Richard  and  his 
companion,  on  the  birth  of  their  oldest  son. 

"  I  rejoice  with  you  in  your  new  blessing.  Married 
life  is  comparatively  sad,  if  no  children  are  given  to 
increase  attachment  to  one  another  and  to  life.  You 
will  find  great  satisfaction  in  training  this  young  im- 
mortal in  all  good  things,  physical,  mental,  and  spirit- 
ual. I  have  named  the  three  in  their  proper  order  of 
development  and  attention ;  for  education  is  educing, 
developing,  not  grafting  on,  or  producing.  His  phys- 
ical well-being,  the  laying  of  a  good  foundation  of 
bodily  health,  will  deserve  your  especial  attention. 
Too  many  parents  foster  the  mind's  growth  at  the 
body's  expense,  and  allow  the  wick  of  life,  in  giving 
too  much  light,  to  waste  the  candle.  You  will  not  be 
so  unwise. 


104  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"It  is  looking  a  good  way  forward,  to  think  much 
now  of  the  little  boy's  mental  culture.  Yet  that 
should  begin  early.  Try  to  give  balance  rather  than 
precocity. 

"  You  will  both  of  you,  as  parents,  have  additional 
reason  to  care  for  the  regulation  of  your  own  lives 
and  hearts.  Man  is  an  imitative  being,  and  especially 
assimilates,  in  his  mental  growth,  the  lessons,  however 
minute,  which  parental  example  inculcates.  Your  deeds, 
not  your  words,  will  be  the  copy  which  his  youthful 
hand  will  inscribe  with  indelible  lines  upon  his  heart. 

"  Spiritual  training,  distinctively  so  termed,  I  name 
last,  as  last  in  order.  True,  this  forms  part  of  physical 
and  yet  more  of  mental  education,  and  should  blend 
with  them  all.  If  he  have  a  sound  body,  he  will  be 
free  from  the  vexations  of  ill-temper  which  ill-health 
produces ;  if  a  sound  mind,  then  he  will  readily  see 
the  relations  between  right  and  wrong,  and  discrimi- 
nate as  to  truth  and  falsehood.  Do  not  seek  to  form 
his  opinions,  but  his  character.  Religion  is  character, 
not  opinion.  The  sound  heart  will  never  allow  the 
head  to  err  as  to  saving  doctrine.  Do  not  seek,  there- 
fore, to  give  an  undue  bias  on  either  side,  but  look 
well  to  the  fountain,  for  'out  of  the  heart  are  the 
issues  of  life.' ' 

We  will  cite  also  a  letter  occasioned  by  the  event 
which  makes  the  opposite  to  birth ;  closing,  as  that 
opens,  the  mortal  drama. 

"  DEAR  EUGENE  AND  ELIZA  :  — 
"A  few  days  since    the   sad   intelligence  of  your 
mutual  and  heavy  sorrow  reached  me.     I  do  not  call 
it  your  loss ;  for  how  can  it  be  so  to  have  a  treasure 


MANCHESTER.  105 

transferred  to  heaven,  which  may  lead  you  more  and 
more  to  fix  your  hearts  where  is  stored  your  precious 
jewel.  I  once  viewed  death  and  earthly  separations 
differently  from  my  present  thought ;  but  the  more 
deeply  I  drink  life's  cup,  by  so  much  the  more  do  I 
long  to  taste  that  of  immortality,  even  if  death's  bitter 
draught  must  first  be  drained. 

"  Doubtless  our  Father,  in  his  love  for  Ms  children, 
considered  what  you  would  suffer  ;  yet  sent  the  death- 
angel  in  mercy  to  teach  the  sad  lesson  of  mortality. 

"  I  had  learned  already  to  love  this  little  niece 
whom  I  have  never  seen,  but  whom  I  shall  see  at  no 
distant  day. 

"  I  could  not  refrain  from  saying  these  few  words 
to  you.  I  feel  that  our  laments  of  earthly  separation 
are  but  the  preludes  to  the  glad  songs  of  heaven, 
where  these  loved  infant  voices  will  greet  us  again, 
never  more  to  be  hushed  in  death." 

The  fountain  of  pleasantry  which  had  played  up  so 
spontaneously  in  Arthur's  childhood,  imbittered  by 
the  tears  of  his  early  orphanage,  and  chilled  afterward 
by  many  a  hard  life  lesson,  sobered,  too,  by  assiduous 
labors  and  pressing  cares,  lost  its  early  exuberance. 
Yet  it  occasionally  works  free  of  mingling  tears,  and 
sheds  again  its  refreshing  on  his  way.  We  find  a  few 
instances  of  this  in  his  letters,  which,  though  passing 
from  grave  to  gay,  we  think  may  be  cited  as  not  out 
of  keeping  with  the  tessellated  course  of  life. 

In  a  January  letter  from   Manchester,  when  the 
skies  of  fortune  also  wore  a  wintry  aspect  for  railroad 
stocks,  he  writes :  — 
5* 


106  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

"  This  really  cold  day  convinces  us  that  winter  has 
not  been  omitted  from  the  list  of  the  seasons.  I  sup- 
pose in  your  warm  office  you  are  not,  like  us,  exasper- 
ated by  the  biting  salutations  of  Jack  Frost,  who  dares 
to  breathe  his  cold  aspersions  upon  the  most  reverend 
heads  in  New  Hampshire,  and  makes  the  exposed  front 
feel  as  well  as  look  like  a  marble  brow. 

"  I  shall  be  in  Boston  next  week  on  Wednesday, 
and  meanwhile  should  be  glad  if  you  would  exercise 
your  financial  abilities  in  the  sale  of  a  little  stock  and 
the  purchase  of  other  for  me.  The  Providence  shares 
have  never  seemed,  hi  any  but  a  satirical  sense,  a 
providential  thing  for  me.  To  keep  those  two  shares 
would  be  a  tempting  of  Providence,  and  I  doubt  not 
be  the  cause  of  a  further  fall  in  my  pride  consequent 
upon  a  further  fall  in  the  stocks. 

"  At  any  rate  I  want  to  sell  to  a  young  man  like 
you ;  though  I  fear  it  may  be  needful  to  seek  some 
one  still  younger,  who  has  confidence,  and  does  not 
rail  at  all  railroads.  With  the  proceeds  please  make 
insurance  doubly  sure,  by  purchasing  two  shares 
additional  to  the  two  of  that  ilk  which  I  already  pos- 
sess." 

Again  Januarius  exhilarates  him  to  the  following 
letter,  all  charges  in  which  the  recipient  would  have  it 
clearly  understood  he  distinctly  repels. 

"  I  wish  you  would  write  that  you  have  searched, 
and  that  my  great-coat  is  or  is  not  in  Boston.  I  wrote 
to  you  some  time  since  a  letter  upon  no  other  subject, 
save  that  I  closed  with  a  hope  that  your  health  was 
good.  You  replied,  or  rather  wrote  a  note,  giving 
ample  assurances  in  regard  to  your  health,  but  not  one 


MANCHESTEB.  107 

word  as  to  the  coat.  I  put  the  subject  in  the  postscript 
of  another  letter,  knowing  that  the  postscript  is  the 
most  important  and  noticeable  part.  Not  a  word  in 
reply  yet.  Now  I  suppose  that  the  great-coat  is  con- 
venient to  you,  and  that  possession  is  nine  tenths  of 
the  law,  —  but  not  of  the  gospel,  remember  !  I  shall 
get  out  a  writ  of  ejectment,  if  I  hear  of  your  parading 
that  coat  on  Washington  Street.  It  does  look  well,  I 
know,  but  then  —  " 

He  alludes  to  the  general  subject  of  playful  spirits 
in  another  epistle  written  upon  his  birthday. 

"  I  duly  received  your  letter  calling  on  me  for  a 
'jocular  reply.'  Gayety  has  not  for  years  been  the 
prevailing  mood  of  my  mind,  and  is  much  less  so  now. 
My  frame  is  rather  that  of  calmness  and  serenity. 
Life  has  been  a  serious,  thoughtful  business,  and  has 
shown  me  too  much  suffering  in  the  world,  too  much 
need  of  inward  conflict,  to  admit  of  much  mirth.  Yet 
I  am  seldom  if  ever  sad,  and  after  seeing  you,  or  some 
friend  of  more  care-free  hours,  I  am  gay  again.  Yet 
the  fountain  of  mirth  does  not  overflow,  unless  some 
angel  visitant  troubles  the  waters. 

"  This  is  my  birthday.  I  have  risen  early,  and  am 
writing  to  you.  You  will  not  expect  mirth  to  be  in 
my  heart  on  this  morning  of  reflection.  Yet  I  think 
myself  very  happy,  much  happier  than  as  a  child. 
Then  I  had  much  to  endure,  without  the  inward  sup- 
port to  enable  me  to  bear  the  petty  ills  that  assail  that 
period  of  life.  Now  I  am  in  feeble  health,  but  that 
does  not  sadden  me.  I  am  pastor  of  a  good  and  appre- 
ciating society,  and  above  all  have  a  glimmering  of 
those  bright  joys  to  come,  which  even  now  would  be 


108  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

more  than  a  reward,  were  I  wholly  self-consecrated. 
Ah  !  were  I  not  conscious  of  faults  and  of  departures 
from  the  one  true  path,  by  coming  short  of  the  full 
discharge  of  duty,  then  I  should  be  perfectly  happy  ! 
Were  I  to  live  my  childhood  over  again,  I  would  do 
everything  to  gain  a  sound,  strong  constitution ;  for 
lack  of  strength  has  hindered  my  best  efforts  from 
full  success.  I  would  gain,  too,  accomplishments  which 
might  beguile  sick  hours,  and  would  be  taught  method- 
ical habits.  Father's  death,  and  the  consequent  griefs 
and  anxieties,  probably  prevented  all  this.  Yet  how 
soon  at  the  longest  shall  I  go  to  that  home  where 
neither  physical  strength  nor  aught  but  holiness  will 
be  needful !  I  think  much  of  mother  and  of  you  all 
to-day,  and  with  ever-increased  love." 

The  year  1853  opened  with  a  notable  providence 
in  the  life  of  our  Manchester  minister.  On  New 
Year's  day  he  writes :  "I  am  now  in  manhood's 
prime,  —  thirty  years  of  age.  The  sands  of  my  life 
must  be  more  than  half  run  out.  I  feel  a  solemnity 
not  easy  to  express."  A  few  days  after  this  he  visited 
his  brother  in  Massachusetts,  and  on  his  return,  over 
the  Boston  and  Maine  Railroad,  a  remarkable  accident 
occurred,  which  he  describes  in  one  of  the  newspapers 
in  the  following  terms :  — 

"  You  desire  me,  Mr.  Editor,  to  write  out  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  distressing  railroad  casualty.  The  train 
left  Boston  at  quarter  past  twelve  at  noon.  There 
were  about  forty  in  the  car  where  I  was  seated.  A 
portion  of  the  passengers  were  in  a  sportive  mood.  I 
recollect  particularly  some  young  men  jesting  upon 
the  phrase  of  their  passenger  tickets,  '  Good  for  this 


MANCHESTER.  109 

trip  only,'  and  speculating  for  how  many  other  trips 
the  same  ticket  had  been  and  would  hereafter  be  used. 
And  yet  to  some  that  trip  doubtless  has  proved  the 
last.  We  were  on  an  express  train,  and  only  stopped 
at  Wilmington,  Ballardvale,  and  South  Andover ;  at 
each  of  which  places  more  passengers  got  in,  thus 
increasing  the  number  in  our  car  to  about  sixty.  At 
South  Andover  General  Pierce  and  his  lady,  accompa- 
nied by  their  interesting  little  boy  of  thirteen,  entered 
the  car,  and  took  seats  in  the  front,  near  where  I  sat. 
We  had  gone  about  a  mile  and  a  half  further,  and 
were  at  our  full  speed,  —  I  was  looking  out  of  the 
window,  —  when  we  felt  a  severe  shock,  and  the  car 
was  dragged  for  a  few  seconds,  the  axle  of  the  front 
wheel  being  broken. 

"  In  another  second  the  coupling  of  our  car  parted, 
and  it  was  whirled  violently  round,  so  as  to  reverse 
the  ends,  and  we  were  swung  over  a  rocky  ledge  into 
a  place  many  feet  below  the  railroad  grade.  I  retained 
my  consciousness  perfectly,  and  had  no  expectation  of 
escaping  death.  I  shall  never  forget  the  breathless 
horror  which  came  over  us  during  our  fall.  There 
was  not  a  shriek  nor  an  exclamation  till  the  car,  after 
having  turned  over  twice  on  the  rocks,  was  arrested 
with  a  violent  concussion,  parted  in  the  middle,  and 
then  broke  into  many  thousand  fragments.  I  received 
personally  a  few  bruises  and  flesh  cuts  of  no  particular 
moment,  and  found  myself  amid  a  mass  of  shattered 
glass  and  splintered  wood  and  groaning  men  and 
women,  with  no  limbs  broken,  and  with  a  heart  to 
praise  God  for  his  sparing  mercy.  The  car  was  a  frag- 
mentary ruin,  and  there  was  no  need  to  make  the  exit 


110  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

from  door  or  window.  The  next  moment  a  man,  cov- 
ered with  blood  himself,  —  a  noble  fellow,  —  cried, 
*  We  are  alive  ;  let  us  help  others  ! '  I  passed  from 
one  frightful  part  of  the  scene  to  another,  which 
seemed  like  a  dreadful  vision.  Men  came  up  on  every 
side  dripping  with  blood,  and  few  escaped  without 
some  cuts  or  bruises.  Before  all  were  rescued,  the 
top,  covered  with  oil-cloth,  took  fire  from  the  stove, 
adding  to  the  general  horror  and  suffering. 

"  Among  the  many  terrible  incidents,  two  especially 
impressed  me.  On  the  bank  sat  a  mother,  clasping  her 
little  boy  some  three  or  four  years  of  age.  He  had 
been  snatched  from  the  ruin  which  had  strown  the 
rock  with  splintered  fragments,  and  her  own  person 
was  considerably  burned ;  but  she  was  shedding  tears 
of  gratitude  over  her  rescued  child,  and  rejoicing  in 
his  safety,  unmindful  of  her  own  pain.  A  few  steps 
from  her  I  saw  the  most  appalling  scene  of  all.  There 
was  another  mother  whose  agony  beggars  descrip- 
tion. She  could  shed  no  tears,  but,  overwhelmed 
with  grief,  uttered  affecting  words  which  I  can  never 
forget.  It  was  Mrs.  Pierce,  the  lady  of  the  President 
elect ;  and  near  her,  in  that  ruin  of  shivered  wood  and 
iron,  lay  a  more  terrible  ruin,  her  only  son,  one  minute 
before  so  beautiful,  so  full  of  life  and  hope  !  The 
blow  by  which  he  was  killed  instantly  struck  his  fore- 
head. 

"  Soon  we  were  able  to  convey  the  wounded  and 
the  dead  to  the  nearest  house.  After  the  head  of  the 
little  boy  had  been  tenderly  cared  for  by  the  physi- 
cians, and  all  possible  done  to  restore  the  look  of  life, 
he  was  carried  by  us  to  the  house  which  he  had  left 


MANCHESTER.  Ill 

so  recently.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  extreme 
pain  that  child's  face  wore  ;  and  yet  there  was  some- 
thing resigned  and  tender  impressed  even  by  the  aw- 
ful hand  of  death.  The  form  which  had  left  that 
house  but  little,  more  than  an  hour  before,  full  of  life 
and  happiness,  was  now  borne  back  to  those  who  had 
parted  from  him, — the  heart  hushed  and  still, — the 
form  motionless,  and  the  limbs  fast  growing  rigid  under 
the  icy  touch  of  death." 

The  day  following  the  disaster,  he  thus  writes  to  his 
brother  respecting  it. 

"  I  write  to  you  from  the  land  of  the  living.  I  am 
a  good  deal  jarred  and  bruised.  I  did  not  feel  it  at  all 
at  first ;  others  suffered  so  much  more,  especially  Gen- 
eral Pierce  and  lady,  who  were  so  terribly  bereaved. 
I  shall  never  forget  that  scene  of  horror.  It  is  before 
my  mind  every  moment,  and  will  not  away.  Nothing 
but  the  mercy  of  God  saved  any  of  us  from  utter 
destruction.  It  is  wonderful  that  any  live  to  tell  that 
fearful  story.  I  expected  to  die,  and  looked  death  in 
the  face  with  calmness.  I  was  astonished  to  find  my- 
self alive  amid  that  awful  ruin.  I  was  blessed  in  being 
of  some  service  to  those  bereaved  parents,  most  heav- 
ily stricken  in  the  midst  of  their  greatness,  and  also 
in  aiding  the  wounded  and  suffering.  How  thankful 
should  I  be  !  What  a  life  of  holiness  I  ought  to  lead  ! 
Surely  no  pride  should  require  the  repetition  of  that 
dread  lesson,  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in 
death. 

"  How  little  did  I  think  when  I  left  you  at  the  rail- 
road station,  that  the  interview  we  there  terminated 
bid  fair  to  be  our  last !  All  our  meetings  ought  to  be 


112  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

so  profitable  and  true,  that,  if  the  last,  the  survivor 
might  feel  no  regret,  and  the  dying  have  a  sweet  and 
calm  conscience.  Such  may  ours  ever  be  ! 

"  I  always  felt  that  I  should  not  live  beyond  thirty  ; 
yet  when  the  axle  of  that  car  broke,  I  was  laying 
plans  for  the  future,  when  in  a  moment  the  thought 
flashed  on  my  mind,  '  For  me  there  is  no  earthly 
future.  In  a  moment  I  must  meet  my  God.'  I  am 
very  thankful,  especially  on  account  of  dear  mother 
and  my  wife,  and  those  who  love  me,  who  would  have 
felt  the  shock  of  another  violent  death  in  the  family." 

The  plans  which  he  says  he  was  revolving  in  his 
mind  when  the  railroad  catastrophe  occurred,  very 
likely  related  to  changing  the  place  of  his  pastoral 
labors.  He  had  some  months  before  received  a  call 
from  the  New  North  Church  in  Boston,  which  he  felt 
bound  to  refuse,  by  reason  of  the  great  unwillingness 
of  his  people  to  part  with  him.  The  call  was,  how- 
ever, pressingly  renewed,  and  after  much  hesitation  he 
concluded  to  accept  it.  He  thus  states  his  reasons  in 
his  family  correspondence. 

"  It  costs  me  a  pang  to  leave  here,  and  I  go  to  a 
very  arduous  post ;  but  I  feel  it  to  be  the  call  of  duty. 
I  make  no  pecuniary  gain  by  the  exchange,  and  must 
work  harder  than  ever  before.  Yet  I  hope  not  only 
to  accomplish  much  good  in  the  great  heart  of  our 
denomination  by  my  efforts,  but  also  to  have  more 
time  for  study  and  to  elaborate  my  sermons  than  I 
can  have  here.  My  own  mind  needs  further  develop- 
ment. Here  I  have  almost  no  exchanges,  have  access 
to  no  large  library,  and  have  to  write  two  sermons 
nearly  every  week,  besides  a  vast  deal  of  parish  visit- 


MANCHESTER.  113 

ing.  A  change  of  location  will  aid  me  in  these  re- 
spects, as  I  have  a  good  stock  of  sermons  now  written, 
and  shall  be  near  Cambridge  library  and  have  plenty 
of  exchanges.  I  shall,  too,  be  near  you  and  other 
members  of  the  family." 

We  have  been  favored  with  a  letter  from  Hon. 
Daniel  Clark,  United  States  Senator  from  New  Hamp- 
shire, respecting  the  pastorate  in  Manchester,  the  place 
of  the  senator's  home  residence  ;  with  extracts  from 
which  we  close  this  chapter. 

"  Your  lamented  brother  was  held  by  me  among  my 
most  esteemed  friends.  I  took  much  interest  in  him ; 
and  with  my  family  he  seemed  almost  '  as  one  of  us.' 

"  My  little  boys  would  leave  at  once  their  sports, 
and  always  run  to  see  Mr.  Fuller.  And  Mrs.  Clark 
always  regarded  him  with  an  interest  stronger,  I 
think,  than  she  ever  felt  for  any  pastor  save  Dr. 
Peabody,  late  of  Portsmouth,  her  native  town. 

"Your  sainted  mother,  too,  was  very  dear  to  us. 
She  was  an  angel  on  earth,  —  kind,  affectionate,  pure, 
sympathizing,  and  devoted.  My  little  ones  always 
called  her  'Auntie  Fuller.' 

"  The  ministry  of  your  brother  at  Manchester  was 
a  very  successful  one.  Not  only  with  his  own  society 
was  he  very  popular,  but  with  all  others. 

"  He  was  so  sincere,  so  zealous,  and  so  devoted,  that 
he  entirely  disarmed  sectarianism,  and  won  his  way  to 
the  hearts  of  all.  He  came  to  us  when  feeble.  He 
built  us  up ;  but  when  he  left  our  strength  was  gone. 

"  When  he  died  for  his  country,  he  had  been  absent 
from  us  many  years ;  yet  I  may  truthfully  say,  from 
the  time  he  left  us  to  the  day  of  his  death  he  was  con- 


114  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

stantly  rising  in  the  estimation  of  our  people.  He 
never  '  wore  out,'  as  many  do. 

"With  the  schools  he  made  himself  familiar ;  and  all 
who  were  in  them  at  that  time  were  very  fond  of 
him. 

"  But  I  may  not  enlarge.  When  he  fell,  I  supposed 
he  had  not  resigned ;  but  I  have  since  learned  that  he 
had,  —  life  and  commission  together. 

"  He  was  earnest  and  devoted.  He  said  to  me, 
when  talking  of  a  place  as  hospital  chaplain :  '  If  I 
cannot  get  a  place  where  I  can  save  my  health,  I  will 
go  back  to  my  regiment,  and  die  with  them ;  for  I  will 
sooner  do  it  than  quit  the  service  of  my  country.' 

"  Noble  martyr  to  a  noble  cause  !  Surely  his  coun- 
try should  not  permit  his  family  to  mourn,  uncared 
for." 


CHAPTER    II. 


BOSTON. 


"  Thy  converse  drew  us  with  delight, 
The  men  of  rathe  and  riper  years  .• 
The  feeble  soul,  a  haunt  of  fears, 
Forgot  his  weakness  in  thy  sight. 

"  On  thee  the  loyal-hearted  hung, 

The  proud  was  half  disarmed  of  pride, 
Nor  cared  the  serpent  at  thy  side 
To  flicker  with  his  double  tongue." 


TENNYSON. 


UR  pastor  was  installed  in  his  new  charge  on 
the  first  day  of  June,  1853.  His  parish  was 
in  Boston,  at  the  North  End,  —  a  location 
once  the  centre  of  fashionable  residence. 
His  dwelling  was  numbered  31,  on  Sheafe  Street, 
near  Copp's  Hill.  The  latter  is  a  swell  of  land  oppo- 
site Charlestown.  The  British  planted  a  battery  there, 
at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  It  is  an  ancient  place  of 
burial,  and  contains  the  graves  of  many  well-known 
Boston  citizens ;  of  whom  Cotton  Mather  may  be 
named  as  one. 

His  religious  society  was  at  a  low  ebb  when  he 
entered  upon  its  ministry ;  owing,  in  part,  to  a  cause 
which  might  be  counteracted,  but  not  overcome.  The 
native  population  was  constantly  receding  from  that 
section  of  the  city,  and  giving  place  in  part  to  mercan- 
tile and  manufacturing  occupation,  but  mainly  to  resi- 


116  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

dents  of  a  foreign  birth  and  different  religious  persua- 
sion. This  cause  was  constantly  operating  with  a 
greatly  increased  momentum.  Building  up  the  re- 
ligious society,  therefore,  was  like  the  stone  of  Sisy- 
phus, raised  only  by  the  constant  application  of  supe- 
rior strength,  and  relapsing  again  the  moment  effort 
was  intermitted.  Members  of  the  church  and  congre- 
gation were  constantly  caught  away  by  the  tide  of 
population,  and  borne  to  southerly  parts  of  the  city ; 
while  those  from  whom  recruits  could  be  hoped  to  sup- 
ply the  broken  ranks  were,  under  the  influence  of  the 
same  law  of  change,  departing  also. 

It  is  not  impossible  to  explain  these  changes  in  the 
focal  centres  of  city  residence,  when  they  are  once 
in  motion,  for  the  very  force  of  the  current,  taking 
away  those  who  were  congenial  and  attractive,  and 
substituting  heterogeneous  occupants,  easily  accounts 
for  the  continuance  of  a  change  in  the  character  of 
population  once  begun.  But  what  gave  it  the  first  im- 
pulse, how  long  it  will  continue  in  the  channel  it  runs 
in  at  any  given  tune,  in  what  quarter  it  will  set  next, 
—  these  are  questions  as  hard  to  solve  as  the  causes 
and  courses  of  ocean  and  atmospheric  currents.  As, 
in  many  regions,  geology  indicates  a  former  inhabi- 
tancy far  different  from  the  present,  so  the  local  history 
of  but  a  few  generations  in  Boston  designates  spots, 
formerly  the  centres  of  wealth  and  influence  which 
have  since  shifted  to  localities  once  little  likely  to  be 
the  magnets  of  such  attraction.  An  instance  of  this 
may  be  found  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Hill,  a  spot 
adapted  by  nature  for  pleasant  residence,  and  not  a 
great  many  years  ago  the  court-end  of  Boston.  But 


BOSTON.  Ill 

the  inscrutable  law  of  change  led  its  inhabitants  to 
give  place  to  the  crowded  occupation  of  the  poor  and 
humble.  And  now  this  population,  in  its  turn,  seems 
to  be  receding  before  the  onward  march  of  the  granite 
blocks  of  commerce. 

Such  was  the  field  to  which  our  pastor  was  now 
transferred ;  induced,  as  he  declares,  by  the  unanimity 
and  earnestness  of  the  call  tendered  to  him  once  and 
again,  and  even  by  "  the  very  depression  and  urgent 
need "  of  the  new  pastorate ;  and  such  was  the  ad- 
verse current  against  which  he  labored  successfully, 
but  with  impossible  permanence. 

The  power  of  the  pulpit  was  by  no  means  his  only 
instrument.  His  insight  led  him  to  recognize  the 
Sabbath  school  as  the  necessary  means,  not  only  of 
attracting  the  lambs  to  the  fold,  but  the  sheep  also,  by 
the  strong  though  scarce  appreciated  influence  which 
the  rising  generation  exercise  by  the  ties  of  love  upon 
their  adult  kindred.  He  knew,  too,  the  power  of  con- 
ference prayer  in  drawing  down  from  the  Source  of 
every  good  and  perfect  gift  the  dews  of  Divine  grace 
and  the  refreshings  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Meetings  of 
this  character  were  regularly  held  in  his  vestry.  He 
says  respecting  them :  *  "  I  believe  such  meetings  have 
been  productive  of  much  good,  and  would  here  warmly 
commend  them  as  an  instrumentality  which  you  can- 
not too  faithfully  use  or  too  carefully  cherish.  Let  us 
return  to  the  ancient  usage  of  this  society,  and,  as  did 

*  A  Historical  Discourse,  delivered  in  the  New  North  Church,  October 
1,1854.  By  ARTHUR  B.  FULLER.  Boston:  Crosby  and  Nichols.  In  this 
Discourse  the  interesting  annals  of  the  New  North  Church,  from  the  time 
it  was  founded  in  1714,  are  briefly  reviewed. 


118  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

its  founders,  meet  often  together  for  prayer  and  re- 
ligious converse  ;  and  may  God  grant  that  attendance 
upon  these  meetings  may  soon  become  as  general  as 
attendance  upon  the  sanctuary,  and  that  they  may  be 
well  sustained  by  those  who  are  ready  to  testify  to 
God's  goodness,  and  seek  to  win  souls  to  Christ ;  that 
there  may  be  many  ready  to  address  God  in  prayer, 
and  to  sing  his  praise.  So  shall  he  '  revive  his  work ' 
among  us." 

He  also  reanimated  a  benevolent  society  in  his  par- 
ish, which  continued  in  active  and  beneficent  existence 
during  his  pastorate.  And  with  its  aid  he  founded  a 
parish  library. 

To  fully  understand  the  instrumentality  which  he 
put  in  operation  for  his  labors  in  the  Lord,  we  must 
not  forget  his  faithful  parochial  visits.  His  love  for 
the  children,  and  their  love  for  him,  welcomed  him  to 
the  open  portals  of  his  people's  dwellings.  Wher- 
ever he  went,  we  shall  find  the  young  attending  iipon 
his  steps,  —  in  the  pastoral  charge,  and  even  upon  the 
tented  field.  On  his  way  from  church  they  clustered 
around  him,  and  he  needed  the  arms  of  a  Briareus  to 
take  them  all  in,  or  to  lend  a  hand  to  each  of  the  little 
ones  who  sought  this  token  of  fellowship  and  guidance 
betwixt  the  man  and  the  child.  Nor  was  he  a  re- 
specter of  persons  or  conditions  in  his  intercourse.  He 
felt  his  Master's  words,  "  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,"  and  delighted  to  regard  the  unfolded  capa- 
city, the  unstained  innocence  of  children  ;  while  hope 
painted  to  him  the  bright  possibility  of  their  future, 
and  love  made  him  seek  to  draw  them  thus  early  to 
the  only  sure  shelter  from  the  storms  of  time  and  eter- 


BOSTON.  119 

nity,  the  ark  of  safety,  Christ  Jesus.  The  destitute 
children,  too,  who  had  been  gathered  into  his  Sabbath 
school  from  the  highways  and  hedges,  won  the  honor 
of  the  pastor's  hand  on  the  way  from  church. 

He  had  two  good  angels  to  help  him  in  the  home 
work  of  the  pastor,  —  his  mother  and  his  wife.  Both 
were  earnest  laborers  with  him  in  the  Sabbath  school ; 
both  were  unexceptionably  beloved  by  the  people. 
"  His  domestic  life  in  Boston,"  writes  one  of  his  pa- 
rishioners, "  seemed  very  delightful  to  him,  and  was 
especially  pleasant  to  his  people.  The  death  of  his 
wifq  was  felt  by  his  whole  society  almost  as  a  per- 
sonal loss,  so  greatly  had  she  endeared  herself  to  all 
who  knew  her.  His  mother,  who  afterward  cared 
for  his  household,  was  so  wise  and  good,  that  I  never 
saw  or  heard  of  any  who  did  not  revere  her  and  prize 
her  sympathy  and  counsel."  Alas  !  how  little  time 
has  elapsed  since  we  saw  this  trio  in  the  Sheafe  Street 
parsonage  ;  and  yet  centuries  could  not  more  effectu- 
ally have  placed  them  in  the  unseen,  irrevocable  past 
than  has  been  done  by  the  course  of  a  few  fleeting 
years.  A  picture  of  them  recurs  to  memory,  as  they 
sang  together  a  Methodist  melody  entitled  "  We  are 
passing  away,"  the  wife  leading  at  the  piano,  and 
the  mother  and  son  standing  near.  They  were  very 
fond  of  that  expressive  hymn,  which  accompanied  each 
verse  by  the  chorus,  "  We  are  passing  away,"  sung 
in  a  sad,  dying  strain,  but  immediately  changing  to  a 
closing  note  of  triumph,  "  Let  us  hail  the  glad  day !  " 
Those  blended  voices  have,  at  intervals  but  briefly 
removed,  vanished  from  earth,  and,  we  doubt  not, 
they  have  in  the  raptures  of  heavenly  song  hailed, 


120  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

once  again  united,  the  glad  day  of  eternity,  to  know 
no  setting,  to  know  no  shadow  upon  its  ever  orient 
sun ! 

To  promote  the  interests  of  the  Sabbath  school, 
which  were  at  a  low  ebb,  he  organized  an  association 
of  teachers,  which  "  interested  them  in  their  work, 
and  tended  to  their  mutual  acquaintance  and  improve- 
ment by  regular  gatherings  for  study  and  conversa- 
tion." *  He  also  sought  to  encourage  the  children  by 
picnics  and  by  anniversary  observances.  Some  of  the 
Christmas  and  New- Year  exercises  of  his  Sabbath 
school  filled  the  church  with  a  pleased  and  attentive 
audience. 

He  took  a  warm  interest  in  the  consecration  of  chil- 
dren. He  did  not  regard  it  as  a  rite  of  mystic  effi- 
cacy, nor  as  indicative  of  a  union  formed  with  Christ, 
which  faith  only  can  accomplish.  But  he  valued  it 
as  giving  the  children  up  to  God,  as  Abraham  de- 
voted Isaac  ;  as  symbolizing  somewhat,  like  the  Jew- 
ish rite  of  circumcision,  the  covenant  blessings  trans- 
mitted through  parents  ;  but  especially  as  a  solemn 
recognition  of  the  supreme  Fatherhood  of  God,  and 
his  sovereign  claim  upon  the  children,  accompanied  by 
.the  undertaking  of  the  parents  to  bring  them  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  He  believed, 
too,  that  the  unconscious  subject,  though  deriving 
from  it  no  mysterious  influence,  would  in  after  life  be 
led  to  regard  it  as  a  solemn  pledge  of  the  affection  and 
consecration  of  his  parents,  and  their  desire  and  prayer 
to  win  for  him  Heaven's  choicest  influence.  Thus  nat- 
ural affection  would  give  an  impulse  to  religious  aspi- 

*  Letter  of  a  parishioner. 


BOSTON.  121 

ration,  and  mingle  the  loved  parent's  voice,  when  per- 
haps hushed  in  the  grave,  with  the  whisperings  of  the 
Holy  Spirit. 

Many  a  pleasant  occasion  did  the  pastor  enjoy  of 
the  consecration  of  children,  as  well  as  of  older  per- 
sons. In  his  pleasant  Sabbath-school  picnics,  they 
were  brought  and  came  forward  garlanded  for  this 
beautiful  ceremony. 

He  enforced  the  necessity  of  conversion,  and  held  it 
up  as  the  aim  of  Sabbath-school  instruction.  In  a  con- 
vention, he  says :  "  The  specific  object  of  the  teacher 
should  be  the  conversion  of  the  scholar.  The  human 
heart  is  a  great  battle-field.  While  religion  is  a  most 
natural  thing,  it  is  supernatural.  There  is  much  in  the 
heart  that  tends  heavenward,  but  there  is  much  that  is 
grovelling.  A  conflict  is  continually  going  on,  and  it  is 
the  teacher's  province  to  turn  the  scale.  There  is  a 
time  when  the  heart  is  changed.  The  conversion  is 
often  sudden  and  startling,  like  the  tornado,  and  often- 
times almost  imperceptible  and  gentle  as  the  result  of  a 
mother's  prayers,  like  the  zephyr  that  follows  the  storm, 
causing  the  leaves  to  kiss  each  other,  and  the  flowers 
to  gently  nod  before  the  soft  and  noiseless  wind.  Chil- 
dren need  to  be  told,  like  other  people,  to  come  to 
Christ.  The  natural  heart  of  the  child  knows  no  more 
of  God  than  it  does  of  mathematics.  Nicodemus  was 
probably  a  kind  man,  with  many  excellent  virtues ;  yet 
the  Saviour  said  he  must  be  born  again.  Except  a  man 
be  born  again,  —  these  were  the  words,  —  and  they 
applied  to  all  men.  He  did  not  believe  in  calling  the 
infant  a  sinner,  nor  in  original  sin ;  but  there  were 
tendencies  in  the  child  to  depravity,  to  sin,  and  he 

6 


122  CHAPLAIN  FULLEK. 

needed  conversion.  It  was  a  dangerous  doctrine  to 
say  that  children  did  not  need  a  change  of  heart." 

It  was  not,  therefore,  to  keep,  but  to  acquire,  religious 
character,  that  he  labored  with  children,  that  they 
might  obtain  Christ  in  the  soul,  who  alone  can  pre- 
serve the  innocence,  simplicity,  and  guilelessness  which 
characterize  childhood ;  and,  by  transmuting  its  lovely, 
spontaneous  impulse  into  principle,  appropriated  as  the 
intelligent  volition  of  a  religious  mind,  furnish  the 
young  heart  with  a  safeguard  for  virtue  and  a  means 
to  counteract  and  destroy  the  tares  with  which  the 
busy  adversary  has  left  no  heart  unsown.  This  was 
the  belief  which  nerved  the  pastor's  energies,  to  labor 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  to  pray  and  not  to  faint,  to 
seek  to  wreathe  the  lovely  buds  of  childhood,  which 
always  attracted  him  in  every  condition  of  life,  into 
the  Saviour's  garlanded  crown. 

He  earnestly  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Sabbath 
school  from  the  pulpit.  In  a  sermon  devoted  to  the 
subject,  he  says :  "  Well  do  I  recollect  an  occasion 
when  I  exchanged  with  a  brother  of  the  Wesleyan 
Methodist  connection,  and,  by  his  request,  remained 
at  the  Sabbath  school,  which  took  place  immediately 
after  the  morning  services.  When  I  had  dismissed 
the  congregation,  I  was  astonished  to  find  all  but  some 
fifteen  or  twenty,  who  were  mostly  casual  attendants, 
remain  to  take  places  in  the  Sabbath  school.  The 
ages  of  the  members  of  that  school  ranged  from  the 
child  of  five  to  a  mother  in  Israel  whose  form  was 
bowed  by  the  burden  of  eighty  years.  The  whole 
congregation  were  engaged  in  the  work.  The  old 
gave  character  to  the  school,  the  young  life  and  viva- 


BOSTON.  123 

city.  In  some  classes,  each  in  turn  became  the  teacher. 
The  congregation  was  poor  in  temporal  wealth,  not  a 
rich  man  in  it.  Many  wondered  how  it  lived,  for  there 
are  no  conference  funds  among  the  Wesleyans.  But 
I  did  not  wonder,  after  seeing  the  Sabbath  school. 

"  In  my  judgment,  the  plan  they  pursued  is  the 
true  one.  Our  Bible-classes  ought  to  be  thronged, 
and  many  younger  classes  gathered.  The  whole  con- 
gregation should  in  some  way,  either  as  teachers  or 
pupils,  be  members  of  the  Sabbath  school.  It  would 
be  worth  while  even  to  dispense  with  the  afternoon 
service,  if  this  result  could  be  secured." 

The  pastor's  varied  labors  were  fruitful  of  good. 
An  interesting  instance  of  his  mode  of  dealing  with 
the  young  hearts  of  his  charge,  who  sought  to  follow 
the  drawings  of  the  crucified  Saviour,  and  leave  all  to 
come  to  him,  occurs  to  memory ;  and  we  relate  it,  as 
illustrative  of  his  treatment  of  a  delicate  subject.  A 
young  man  unbosomed  himself  to  him,  relating  his 
religious  experience  and  his  desire  to  unite  himself 
with  his  newly  found  Saviour  by  a  public  profession. 
But  his  parents  opposed  it,  and  he  was  under  age. 
The  pastor  counselled  him,  that  it  was  no  doubt  his 
duty  to  leave  father  and  mother  for  Christ's  sake,  if 
that  should  be  necessary ;  but  he  should  first  try 
rather  to  win  them  to  the  Saviour,  and  bring  them  with 
him.  The  convert  was  their  only,  dearly-loved  son, 
and  they  were  without  religion.  They  probably  re- 
garded him  as  under  the  influence  of  a  transient  im- 
pression, and  the  pastor  hoped,  if  they  found  he  had  a 
permanent  desire  to  unite  with  the  church,  they  would 
finally  yield  to  the  wishes  in  spiritual  things  of  one 


124  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

they  had  ever  indulged  in  the  temporal.  He  therefore 
advised  him  to  defer  his  public  profession  for  some 
months,  and  see  if  the  parents  would  not  be  persuaded 
to  come  round  to  his  wishes. 

Such,  indeed,  was  the  result  ;  and  better  still ! 
When  the  parents  found  their  darling  child  had  really 
permanently  set  his  heart  on  uniting  with  Christ,  they 
resolved  to  gratify  him,  and  announced  to  him  that 
they  no  longer  opposed  his  wishes.  Nor  was  this  all. 
They  had  viewed  religion  in  others  as  bigotry  or  ex- 
citement or  unsoundness  ;  but  what  was  this  which, 
without  any  induction  on  their  part,  had  obtained  a 
hold  upon  their  son  ?  It  had  not  made  him  less  ob- 
servant of  their  wishes,  but  more  dutiful.  It  had 
blended  with  his  amiable  natural  traits,  and  trans- 
figured them  with  a  new  glow  and  radiance.  Might 
there  not,  then,  be  a  reality  in  religion  ?  Thus  they 
also  were  led  to  inquire  the  way  of  life,  and  ultimately 
followed  their  son  in  giving  their  hearts  to  the  Saviour, 
and  professing  Christ  before  men. 

A  prominent  theological  trait  in  our  pastor's  char- 
acter was  a  love  for  Christian  union.  Heads  might 
differ  on  the  most  difficult  problems  submitted  to  the 
intellect ;  inadequacies  of  language  might  further  widen 
this  variance,  and  often  give  it  an  apparent  reality 
when  it  in  fact  existed  only  in  a  diversity  of  meaning 
attached  to  words  ;  but  Christian  hearts  at  least  might 
agree  and  combine,  and  surely  ought  to  do  so,  in- 
stead of  turning  the  spiritual  weapons  given  them  to 
vanquish  the  world  to  the  unhallowed  purpose  of  inter- 
necine strife.  Christian  union,  he  believed,  gauged 
truly  Christian  love,  and  indicated  the  completeness 


BOSTON.  125 

of  th^transformation  of  the  natural  heart  to  the  like- 
ness of  Him  who  breathed  up  among  his  last  petitions 
the  touching  prayer  that  his  disciples  might  be  one, 
even  as  he  and  the  Father  were  one. 

He  liked  not  denominational  shackles,  and  he  in- 
duced his  people  in  Boston  to  adopt  a  form  of  organiza- 
tion ;  the  first  article  of  which  reads  as  follows :  — 

"ART.  1.  The  church  connected  with  the  New 
North  Religious  Society  shall  assume  no  sectarian 
name,  desiring  simply  to  be  known  as  a  branch  of 
the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Afterward,  when  engaged  in  the  duties  of  army 
chaplain,  he  was  more  than  ever  drawn  in  heart  to 
desire  the  oneness  of  the  followers  of  Christ;  and 
he  declared,  if  ever  settled  over  another  parish,  it 
should  be  independent. 

His  preaching  was  principally  practical,  seeking  to 
bring  home  the  Gospel  to  the  soul,  and  to  induct  it 
through  all  the  channels  of  spiritual  and  secular  life. 
So  far  as  was  requisite  to  this,  he  preached  upon  doc- 
trines boldly  and  distinctly,  yet  dealing  kindly  with 
those  who  differed  from  him.  He  sought  to  distin- 
guish the  good  ingredient  in  each  extreme,  while  him- 
self pursuing  the  golden  mean,  as  if  he  made  his  motto, 
Medio  tutissimus  ibis.  He  thought  lightly  of  the  badges 
of  sect.  He  thus  writes,  in  reference  to  a  clergyman 
who  had  left  the  Unitarian  body :  "  Let  each  man 
find  his  true  place  in  the  army  of  Christ,  where  his 
sympathies  and  convictions  lead  him ;  and,  in  what- 
ever regiment  he  fights,  if  he  is  a  soldier  of  Jesus,  he 
has  my  God-speed." 

He  would  by  no  means  consent  that  the  dominion 


126  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

of  religion  should  be  abridged,  or  the  sceptre  of  the 
Almighty  Sovereign  excluded  from  any  sphere  of  pub- 
lic or  private  life.  Especially  did  he  regard  politics  as 
the  right  domain  of  religion.  Where  the  government 
is  intrusted  to  one  ruler,  his  religious  training  in  re- 
gard to  his  high  public  responsibilities  is  admitted  to 
be  an  essential  safeguard  of  his  justice  and  virtue  and 
permanence  of  authority.  And  where  the  sceptre  is 
intrusted  to  the  people,  the  same  rule  must  apply  with 
a  force  by  no  means  diminished.  He  insisted  upon 
the  discharge  of  his  sacred  trust  in  this  respect  in  his 
new  position. 

In  a  published  discourse,  entitled  "  Our  Dangers  as 
a  Republic,  and  Duties  as  Citizens,"  the  pastor  defines 
his  views  of  political  ethics.  "  I  envy  no  man,"  he 

says,  "  in  whose  bosom  is  no  glow  of  patriotism 

It  is  an  unholy  and  dangerous  divorce,  a  sundering 
of  things  joined  by  God,  which  separates  religion  from 
patriotism,  Christian  principle  from  political  action. 
Our  fathers  ventured  not  into  the  struggle  till  they 
had  bent  reverently  within  consecrated  walls.  I  can- 
not too  strongly  enjoin  the  necessity  of  personal  religion. 
He  who  enters  the  arena  of  politics  without  it,  goes 
to  the  battle  unarmed. 

"  Every  American  citizen  should  be  the  uncompro- 
mising advocate  of  liberty  throughout  the  land.  Let 
us  soon  and  ever  justly  be  able  to  say  of  our  beloved 
country,  as  Curran  proudly  says  of  him  who  takes 
refuge  in  Britain,  'No  matter  in  what  language  his 
doom  may  have  been  pronounced,  no  matter  what  com- 
plexion an  Indian  or  African  sun  may  have  burned 
upon  him,  no  matter  in  what  disastrous  battle  his  liber- 


BOSTON.  127 

ties  may  have  been  cloven  down,  no  matter  with  what 
solemnities  he  may  have  been  devoted  on  the  altar  of 
slavery,  —  the  first  moment  he  touches  the  sacred  soil  of 
Britain,  the  altar  and  the  god  sink  together  into  the 
dust,  his  soul  walks  abroad  in  his  own  majesty,  his  body 
swells  beyond  the  measure  of  his  chains,  that  burst 
from  around  him,  and  he  stands  forth  redeemed,  re- 
generated, and  disenthralled  by  the  irresistible  genius 
of  universal  emancipation.' ' 

The  pastor  did  not  doff  the  robe  of  office  to  make 
stump-speeches,  and  in  the  piilpit  he  was  no  party 
advocate.  He  had  some  warm  friends  in  the  congre- 
gation who  were  entirely  opposed  to  him  in  political 
life,  who  yet  declared  they  honored  his  independence, 
and  liked  to  hear  him  speak  his  mind ;  and  when  he 
was  nominated  for  political  station,  some  opponents 
voted  for  him,  as  a  tribute  to  the  man.  In  this  con- 
nection it  may  be  pertinent  to  state,  that  in  1857  he 
was  nominated,  by  the  Republicans  of  Suffolk  District 
Number  Two,  for  the  Massachusetts  Senate  ;  but,  with 
the  other  candidates  of  his  party  in  that  district,  he 
foiled  of  an  election. 

The  pastor  was  a  careful  student  of  public  events, 
and  failed  not  to  point  out  their  moral  in  his  discourses. 
When  the  sad  news  of  Daniel  Webster's  death  was 
announced,  he  expatiated  upon  it  from  the  pulpit. 

*  While  boasting  Britain  secretly  leans  towards  the  side  of  slavery  in  the 
American  rebellion,  this  celebrated  quotation  cannot  be  too  familiarly  cited, 
in  order  to  call  a  blush  to  the  cheeks  of  the  Empress  of  the  sea.  In 
America,  too,  it  should  never  be  reckoned  trite,  till  it  becomes  true  of  our 
own  liberated  soil.  Till  then,  we  may  say  of  it,  as  a  clergyman  replied 
to  one  finding  fault  with  his  repeating  a  sermon,  "  I  ought  to  preach  it  till 
you  practise  it." 


128  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  On  this  calm  Sabbath  morn,"  said  the  preacher, 
"  he  who  had  lived  amid  the  conflicts  of  the  forum  and 
debate  in  national  assemblies,  the  thunders  of  whose 
eloquence  had  been  hurled  against  those  who  opposed 
what  he  deemed  the  country's  welfare,  —  he  rests  from 
his  labors  ;  he  on  this  quiet  morning  lies  cold  and 
passionless  as  the  lifeless  marble  !  Forgetful  of  all  po- 
litical differences,  a  nation  is  shedding,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  let  fall,  tears  of  regret  for  this  sad  event. 
Every  noble  heart  to-day  will  throb  with  sympathy 
and  solemn  sadness. 

"  One  after  another  the  brightest  jewels  have  been 
plucked  from  our  nation's  crown  by  the  ruthless  hand 
of  death.  Last  of  all,  he  has  now  fallen  whose  heart, 
whose  mind,  in  its  wondrous  grandeur,  was  American 
in  its  every  pulsation,  its  every  thought.  Differ  from 
him  as  some  of  us  have  honestly  done,  all  that  is  for- 
gotten at  his  grave  ;  and  we  mourn  together.  Never 
more  shall  we  meet  the  gaze  of  his  cavernous  eyes,  in 
whose  depths  we  seem  to  look  upon  his  mighty  intel- 
lect. Never  more  shall  Faneuil  Hall  be  filled  with 
that  deep,  sonorous  voice,  whose  every  tone  was  full  of 
meaning.  Never  more  shall  a  listening  senate  hang 
breathless  on  his  word.  No  more  shall  his  utterances 
flash  like  lightning  across  the  continent,  while  the  Aus- 
trian despot  trembles  at  his  pleas  for  Hungarian  free- 
dom. 

"  Daniel  Webster  is  dead ;  and  even  in  the  house 
of  God  we  sit  in  solemn  sadness  at  the  thought,  and 
say,  Alas !  our  country !  Yet,  my  friends  ;  it  cannot 
be  that  such  a  mind,  such  a  spirit,  should  die  !  God 
is  not  so  prodigal  of  mind  and  spirit  as  to  strike  out 


BOSTON.  129 

such  from  the  circle  of  being.  They  must  be  immor- 
tal as  He  from  whom  they  came.  It  is  only  the 
body  which  lies  cold  and  lifeless ;  the  soul  can  never 
die.  Thank  God  that  in  his  last  moments  he  uttered 
imperishable  words  of  faith  in  immortality,  and  faith  in 
the  Bible,  and  that  among  his  last  words  were  those 
of  prayer.  O  ye  who  revere  his  memory,  let  that  les- 
son of  faith  sink  into  your  hearts !  The  great,  the 
mighty,  must  die  ;  but  they  shall  live  again  !  It  is  not 
ours  to  judge  of  their  faults,  but  rather  to  learn  from 
whatever  was  good  in  their  example  ;  while  we  are 
reminded  that  the  body  dies,  but  the  soul  lives  for- 
ever, and  yet  forever !  " 

In  the  cause  of  temperance  the  pastor  labored  on, 
both  in  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it.  In  1858  he  was 
chosen  by  the  State  Temperance  Convention  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Executive  Committee,  and  in  the  same  year 
was  elected  a  director  of  the  Washingtonian  Home, 
better  known  as  the  Home  for  the  Fallen. 

He  loved  these  enterprises,  not  merely  for  the  main 
object,  but  for  the  incidental  result  of  bringing  men  of 
different  callings  and  religious  persuasions  into  friendly 
nearness.  In  an  address  to  the  Sons  of  Temperance, 
he  asks,  "  Has  the  order  accomplished  nothing,  if  it 
unites  men  of  different  denominational  names  on  this 
platform  of  philanthropy  ?  " 

In  the  Home  for  the  Fallen,  too,  he  took  a  warm 
interest,  on  account  of  its  benefits  conferred  on  the 
class  to  whom  it  was  devoted,  and  the  genial  influence 
which  co-operation  in  benevolence  has  upon  the  philan- 
thropist. "  He  liked  the  institution,"  he  said,  at  one 
of  its  public  meetings,  "  because  it  was  not  sectarian, 

6*  I 


130  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

because  of  its  broad  principle,  and  because  it  was  not 
adapted  to  any  nationality,  but  to  those  of  all  nations 
and  climes." 

After  the  Maine  Law  had  become  a  Massachusetts 
statute,  he  appeared  before  the  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of 
Boston  to  advocate  a  petition  for  its  enforcement,  which 
had  been  subscribed  by  clergymen  of  all  denomina- 
tions, and,  among  other  signers,  by  eighteen  hundred 
and  sixty  women.  He  alluded  to  the  rendition  of 
Burns,  the  fugitive  slave,  which  the  city  government 
had  aided  in,  alleging  that  they  must  sustain  the  law, 
though  contrary  to  their  own  convictions.  He  urged 
them  to  prove  the  sincerity  of  that  allegation,  by  a  like 
scrupulous  loyalty  in  enforcing  the  Maine  Law.  The 
city  authorities  took  no  action.  But  such  efforts  are 
never  lost,  and  ultimately  result  in  good,  even  after 
they  have  been  forgotten. 

We  find  the  pastor  in  Boston,  as  elsewhere,  faith- 
fully laboring  as  a  member  of  the  public-school  com- 
mittee. Nor  did  he  forget  the  cause  of  popular  educa- 
tion in  the  pulpit.  When  a  sacrilegious  hand  was 
stretched  forth  to  withdraw  the  Bible  from  the  public 
schools,  it  led  him,  as  well  as  others  of  the  clergy,  to 
an  earnest  protest  from  the  sacred  desk.  "  No  ques- 
tion," he  said,  in  the  language  reported  in  the  public 
press,  "  had  ever  arisen  of  so  vast  importance  in  our 
midst ;  and  the  discipline,  the  usefulness,  the  per- 
petuity of  that  system  which  our  fathers  established, 
were  hanging  in  the  balance.  We  needed  to  keep  the 
Bible  in  the  schools  to  prevent  our  land  from  becoming 
a  land  like  France  or  Spain,  or  other  countries  where 
the  Bible  was  set  at  naught.  Knowledge  without 


BOSTON.  131 

morality  was  power,  but  it  was  power  for  evil ;  and 
whence  could  we  draw  higher  morality  than  from  the 
Bible,  to  guide  and  strengthen  knowledge  ?  " 

We  find  him,  too,  speaking  before  the  New  England 
Female  Medical  College,  in  terms  approving  of  that 
enterprise.  On  the  important  subject  of  woman's 
rights  he  often  expressed  himself.  We  cite  as  a  speci- 
men his  ideal  of  womanhood,  delineated  in  a  published 
discourse,  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Louisa  So- 
phia Swan. 

"  This  ideal  simply  demands  for  woman  the  right  to 
do  all  she  can  do  well ;  considers  that  her  true  sphere 
for  which  organization  and  capacity  adapt  her  ;  recog- 
nizes her  neither  as  man's  handmaid  and  servant,  nor 
idol  and  superior,  but  his  helper  and  equal.  With  this 
class,  woman's  rights  and  woman's  duties  are  synony- 
mous. Home,  it  believes,  from  her  very  constitution, 
the  law  of  God,  written  in  lines  of  sinew  and  vein  and 
bone  and  the  very  texture  of  her  being,  home  will 
ever  be  her  chief  sphere  of  action ;  but  whenever  a 
Joan  of  Arc  leads  her  countrymen  to  victory  and  to 
freedom  ;  whenever  a  Florence  Nightingale  makes  of 
the  hospital  of  the  Crimea  a  scene  of  angel  ministry  to 
the  wounded;  whenever  a  Grace  Darling  saves  life 
by  daring  almost  more  than  manly;  or  a  Mrs.  Patten 
guides  her  dying  husband's  ship  safely  into  port,  her- 
self its  commander ;  or  a  Mrs.  Stowe  writes  the  tale 
of  suffering  beneath  the  foul  oppression  of  slavery ; 
or,  in  the  strife  for  Italian  liberty,  a  woman  in  im- 
mortal Rome  does  immortal  deeds  of  beneficence, 
watching  over  the  helpless  Roman  soldiery  when 
they  were  dying  in  the  hospitals,  and  dying,  as  did 


132  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

some  Americans  of  old,  for  human  rights  and  dear 
liberty ;  *  —  then  to  all  these,  and  such  as  these,  those 
who  accept  the  ideal  of  JESUS,  utter  the  plaudit,  '  Well 
done,'  and  declare  that  these  women  have  not  for- 
gotten their  sex,  have  not  departed  from  its  duties, 
but  have  nobly  fulfilled  them  all,  and  are  truly  wo- 
manly women. 

"  My  friends,  for  one,  I  rejoice  that  a  greater  than 
Solomon  taught  us  by  his  word,  yet  more  by  his  ex- 
ample, what  should  be  the  rank  and  sphere  of  woman  ; 
that  she  should  not  be  man's  vassal,  and  say,  as  Milton 
represents  Eve  to  say,  — 

'  What  thou  bid'st, 
Unargued  I  obey;  so  God  ordains; 
God  is  thy  law !  thou  mine ;  to  know  no  more 
Is  woman's  happiest  knowledge  and  her  praise.' 

And  yet  more,  I  rejoice  that  he  rejected  the  sad,  awful 
view  which  regards  woman  as  the  mere  toy  of  man's 
idler  hours  ;  to  be  loved  only  when  young  and  fair, 
and  then  neglected ;  to  be  flattered,  but  not  truly  rev- 
erenced, and  at  last  to  find  in  him  the  careless  hus- 
band, the  forgetful  reveller.  Ah,  thank  God, 

'  The  days  are  no  more, 

When  she  watched  for  her  lord  till  the  revel  was  o'er, 
And  stilled  her  sad  sorrow,  and  blushed  when  he  came, 
As  she  pressed  her  cold  lips  on  his  forehead  of  flame. 
Alas  for  the  loved  one !  too  spotless  and  fair 
The  joys  of  his  banquet  to  chasten  and  share ; 
Her  eye  lost  its  light  that  his  goblet  might  shine, 
And  the  rose  on  her  cheek  was  dissolved  in  his  wine.' " 

When  the  great  refreshing  from  the  Lord,  in  1857, 
swept  over  the  community  with  wondrous  power,  it 

*  Referring  to  his  sister  Margaret. 


BOSTON.  133 

found  our  pastor  a  servant  girded  for  the  work. 
While  he  deprecated  a  superficial,  illusory  excitement, 
and  especially  artificial  contrivances  to  forward  that 
which  the  Spirit  of  God  can  alone  accomplish,  he 
earnestly  approved  and  rejoiced  to  labor  for  a  deep 
spiritual  work  of  grace.  That  great  revival  attested 
the  presence  and  commission  of  the  Messiah  as  much 
as,  if  not  more  than,  his  miracles  in  the  flesh.  One  of 
its  most  melting  and  beautiful  effects  was  manifested  in 
bringing  together  pastors  of  all  denominations.  One 
meeting  in  every  week  was  especially  for  them,  as 
brother  prophets  to  bow  together  at  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  with  thanksgiving  supplicate  the  continued 
prosperity  of  the  Divine  work.  Pastors  spoke  in  mis- 
cellaneous assemblies,  where  sect  was  forgotten  in  the 
presence  of  the  great  Head  of  every  true  church. 
Christians  were  astonished  to  learn  here  that  members 
of  other  denominations  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  the  same  heavenly  affections  and  desires  as  their 
own.  "  If  that  be  Unitarianism,"  said  one  of  another 
sect,  after  listening  to  our  pastor  on  such  an  occasion, 
"  I  would  be  a  Unitarian."  He  sought  to  have  thanks- 
giving mingle  with  the  supplications  of  the  prayer- 
meeting.  He  wished  it  remembered  "  that  praise  is 
an  important  element  of  prayer.  We  did  not  want 
always  to  be  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  but  to  remember 
the  Father's  loving  arms  spread  out  to  embrace  his 
children.  There  was  infinite  love  behind  the  clouds 
of  earth.  Let  us  think  of  that.  In  our  Pentecostal 
season,  let  us  rejoice  in  the  love  of  God,  the  cheering 
symbol  of  which  shines  in  the  unclouded  heavens 
to-day!" 


134  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

One  of  the  grateful  incidents  in  our  pastor's  toil 
was  the  warm  friends  he  acquired.  Few  were  more 
fortunate  than  he  in  making  "friends  indeed"  ;  those 
who  do  not  waver  nor  slacken  in  their  regard,  and 
who,  once  gained,  are  lasting.  One  of  them  perhaps 
furnishes  the  key  to  this  good  fortune  in  characteristics 
of  our  pastor,  which  he  thus  describes :  "  He  was 
always  so  genial  and  hearty,  so  glad  to  meet  his  friends. 
There  was  never  anything  cold  or  indifferent  about 
him,  no  doubtful  reserve  to  make  you  question  your 
welcome.  So,  when  I  heard  him  preach,  besides  the 
satisfaction  of  hearing  a  faithful  word  feelingly  spoken, 
I  had  a  pleasure  in  the  voice  of  a  warm-hearted,  ear- 
nest friend,  who  was  sure,  after  the  service,  to  give 
me  a  cordial  greeting,  more  refreshing  and  comforting 
to  me  than  the  best  sermon."  His  friendships  were 
not  confined  to  his  own  parish  nor  his  own  denomina- 
tion. As  a  happy  instance  of  this,  we  may  refer  to 
the  kindly  relation  which  subsisted  between  him  and 
the  Rev.  Rollin  H.  Neale,  D.  D.,  of  the  Baptist  denom- 
ination ;  and  we  are  glad  to  insert  here  a  communica- 
tion we  have  been  favored  with  from  that  eminent 
Christian  pastor. 

"  I  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  to  furnish 
some  personal  reminiscences  of  your  brother.  It  so 
happened  that  I  was  present  at  his  installation  in  Bos- 
ton. Wishing  to  hear  the  addresses  of  the  gentlemen 
who  were  announced  to  speak  on  that  occasion,  espe- 
cially the  sermon  of  Rev.  Dr.  Peabody,  now  of  Cam- 
bridge, I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  as  he  first 
entered  upon  his  ministry  in  this  city.  Our  personal 
acquaintance,  however,  did  not  begin  until  some  time 


BOSTON.  135 

afterwards.  I  frequently  heard  reports  of  his  earnest- 
ness as  a  preacher.  Members  of  other  denominations, 
intending  of  course  to  pay  him  a  compliment,  said  that 
he  was  strictly  evangelical,  and  preached  the  Gospel. 
He  became  known  as  an  advocate  of  temperance,  a 
friend  of  the  poor  and  the  outcast,  and,  indeed,  was 
prominent  (though  with  no  spirit  of  bitterness)  in 
favor  of  every  moral  reform. 

"  My  personal  acquaintance  with  him  began  in  a 
way  that  proved  to  be  of  much  interest  to  myself,  and 
which  I  regarded  as  quite  a  favoring  Providence.  I 
had  been  appointed  to  preach  the  Dudleian  Lecture, 
which  that  year  was  to  be  on  the  subject  of  Romanism. 
I  had  thought  of  various  ways  of  treating  it,  all  of 
which  were  unsatisfactory.  I  had  taken  up  and  re- 
jected one  theme  after  another,  until  I  was  quite  in  a 
fever  of  anxiety  as  the  time  for  fulfilling  the  appoint- 
ment drew  nigh.  I  reluctantly  accepted  an  invita- 
tion to  an  evening  party.  Your  brother  was  present. 
In  the  course  of  conversation,  I  said  in  pleasantry: 
'  Mr.  Fuller,  I  see  by  the  newspaper  advertisements 
that  you  are  delivering  a  series  of  lectures  against  the 
Orthodox ;  I  hope  you  will  not  be  hard  upon  us.' 
'  O  no,'  said  he,  '  I  am  only  telling  how  much  good 
there  is  in  you.  I  see  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  all 
churches,  and  in  all  doctrines,  —  the  doctrine  of  the 
atonement,  the  doctrine  of  regeneration,  and  of  the 
Trinity.  And  I  only  try  to  bring  out  what  is,  good 
and  true,  and  leave  the  false  and  the  corrupt  to  take 
care  df  itself.'  He  went  on  in  the  same  strain  for 
I  know  not  how  long.  I  looked  at  him,  very  re- 
spectfully of  course,  but  became  somewhat  absent- 


136  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

minded.  '  Is  not  this,'  I  thought,  '  the  true  way  to 
deal  with  Romanism  ?  '  And  before  the  interview  was 
ended,  I  had  got  my  theme  and  the  plan  pretty  much 
worked  out :  '  The  Elements  of  Truth  in  the  Romish 
Church.'  I  explained  to  him  afterwards  how  much 
relief  this  incidental  conversation  had  given  me,  and 
how  much  aid  I  had  thus  received  in  preparing  for  a 
dreaded  occasion.  From  this  time  our  friendship  be- 
came intimate  and  unreserved.  He  was  perfectly  open 
and  frank  in  the  expression  of  his  sentiments,  never 
seeking  to  conciliate  favor  by  compromise  or  conceal- 
ment of  his  own  views ;  but  he  was  not  inclined  to 
controversy  or  to  a  negative  faith.  The  things  which 
most  impressed  him,  both  in  morals  and  religion,  and 
which,  therefore,  were  most  prominent  in  his  conversa- 
tion, were  such  as  would,  with  men  and  Christians 
generally,  find  a  ready  assent.  Hence,  without  seek- 
ing for  popularity,  he  was  universally  beloved.  I 
never  heard  any  one  speak  to  his  disparagement. 
This  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  his  preaching  and  pub- 
lic addresses  were  never  of  the  milk-and-water  stamp. 
He  was  so  obviously  sincere,  so  honest,  and  withal  had 
such  a  fund  of  good-nature,  that  it  was  impossible,  even 
for  those  whose  conduct  came  under  his  severest 
denunciations,  to  speak  or  think  ill  of  him.  When  I 
heard  of  his  appointment  as  an  army  chaplain,  my  first 
thought  was,  '  That  is  the  right  man  for  the  right 
place.  He  will  love  the  soldiers,  and  they  will  love 
him.'  And  so  it  has  proved.  No  church  was  ever 
more  attached  to  a  pastor,  no  affectionate  children 
more  closely  bound  to  a  loving  father,  than  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Sixteenth  Regiment  were  to  him.  He  was 


BOSTON.  137 

with  them  in  their  frequent  and  tedious  marches,  with 
them  in  the  night-watches,  with  them  in  the  hour  of 
sickness  and  sorrow,  and  with  them  on  the  field  of 
battle  and  of  death.  His  published  letters  from  the 
army  are  exceedingly  characteristic.  Breathing  the 
spirit  of  unaffected  piety,  there  is  no  moroseness.  You 
see  him  everywhere,  and  at  all  times,  active,  cheerful, 
and  full  of  life  and  hope. 

"  I  met  him  in  Boston  a  short  time  before  his 
death.  He  had  been  sick,  but  was  anxious  to  hasten 
back  to  the  field  of  duty.  I  wanted  him  to  speak  at  a 
public  meeting,  but  remarked  about  his  unministerial- 
looking  costume.  '  O,'  said  he,  '  I  have  to  rough  it, 
and  dress  accordingly.'  He  spoke  at  several  of  the 
religious  anniversaries  with  more  than  his  usual  enthu- 
siasm and  patriotic  ardor. 

"  When  I  heard  of  his  death,  my  heart  sank  within 
me.  I  thought  of  his  wife  and  children,  of  the  soldiers 
whom  he  loved  so  well,  of  you,  my  dear  sir,  his 
brother,  and  of  my  own  personal  bereavement.  But 
of  these  private  griefs  I  will  not  speak.  I  am  glad 
that  you  are  preparing  a  biography.  The  best  me- 
morial of  him,  however,  is  that  which  he  has  written 
himself,  and  which  will  long  live  in  the  hearts,  and  I 
trust  in  the  improved  characters,  of  those  who  knew 
him." 

We  have  thus  briefly  glanced  at  six  laborious  years 
of  our  pastor  in  connection  with  the  New  North  Church 
in  Boston.  All  earthly  relations,  longer  or  shorter, 
must  cease ;  and  his  Boston  pastorate  was  now  brought 
to  a  close.  He  found  his  strength  unequal  to  cope 
longer  with  the  adverse  current,  expending  upon  it  a 


138  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

toil  which  could  not  there  obtain  any  lasting  success, 
and  he  sent  in  his  resignation,  having  resolved  to 
accept  a  call  extended  to  him  by  a  society  in  Water- 
town,  Massachusetts.  His  society  in  Boston  parted 
from  him  with  regret,  and  some  three  years  afterward, 
having  settled  no  other  pastor,  sold  their  house  of 
worship. 

The  public  press  appropriately  noticed  his  resigna- 
tion. One  paper  says :  "  His  sympathies  have  ever 
been  with  the  people,  and  his  labors,  unremitting  and 
constant,  have  ever  been  for  the  people,  and  conse- 
quently the  PEOPLE  have  loved  him."  Another  re- 
marks :  "  He  has  overtasked  his  strength,  and  needs  a 
respite  from  hard  work.  He  will  be  a  loss  to  Boston, 
and  particularly  to  that  section  of  it  wherein  he  has 
devotedly  labored.  The  time  is  near  at  hand  when 
the  Protestant  churches  at  the  North  End  must  seek 
some  other  spot,  if  they  would  perpetuate  their  exist- 
ence." 

Another  paper  reports  him  as  saying,  in  his  farewell 
discourse,  that  "  he  had  preached  life  more  than  doc- 
trine. He  had  preached  against  sin,  especially  against 
slavery;  and  he  thanked  God  that  he  had  done  so. 
He  spoke  strongly  and  unequivocally  when  our  noble 
Senator  fell  beneath  a  dastardly  blow.  He  spoke  with 
severity  against  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise 
and  against  every  aggression  of  the  slave  power.  He 
had  spoken  freely  against  individual  and  national  sins, 
but  never  as  a  partisan.  He  had  denounced  intem- 
perance and  the  supineness  of  the  city  authorities. 
But,  most  of  all,  he  had  preached  repentance,  regen- 
eration, holiness,  charity,  and  active  benevolence. 


BOSTON.  139 

"  He  regretted  that  their  evening  meetings  had  not 
generally  been  successful.  He  was  persuaded  that  his 
parishioners  entertained  love  for  him.  His  own  for 
them  was  deep  and  fervent,  and  would  only  cease  with 
life. 

"  He  glanced  at  the  progress  of  the  church  since  his 
connection  with  it.  Their  debts  had  been  consolidated 
and  lessened,  and  no  longer  embarrassed  them,  and  he 
left  them  with  money  in  their  treasury.  Their  house 
had  been  remodelled.  Their  church-membership  had 
increased  fivefold,  and  their  Sabbath  school  three- 
fold." 

The  very  day  on  which  this  farewell  discourse  was 
pronounced,  the  pastor's  mother  entered  on  her  ever- 
lasting rest.  He  knew  not  the  event  was  so  near, 
though  he  refers  perhaps  to  her  critical  sickness,  when 
he  alludes  in  the  sermon  to  the  many  seasons  of  sor- 
row he  has  attended,  and  adds,  "  Voice  after  voice, 
dear  to  my  ear,  has  died  away,  and  others  will  soon  be 
hushed  in  death."  He  had  lost  his  wife  three  years 
before,  and  perhaps  from  being  deprived  of  the  home 
which  had  been  so  dear  to  him,  and  afforded  him  such 
genial  refreshment  in  his  toil,  he  felt  the  less  able  to 
continue  his  pastoral  labors,  in  a  scene,  too,  which 
always  reminded  him  of  what  he  had  lost. 

In  the  next  chapter  we  propose  to  take  a  more  inte- 
rior and  familiar  view  of  his  Boston  life ;  and,  mean- 
time, we  close  this  with  the  following  tribute  from  a 
valued  parishioner. 

"  It  was  his  custom,"  he  says,  "  at  one  time,  dur- 
ing a  prevalent  revival  in  Boston,  to  hold  daily  after- 
noon and  evening  prayer-meetings,  in  which  all  were 


140  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

invited  to  participate,  without  regard  to  doctrinal 
views.  On  an  occasion,  when  the  various  denomi- 
nations blended  with  peculiar  harmony  and  cordial- 
ity, one  of  the  congregation  struck  up  '  The  morn- 
ing light  is  breaking ' ;  and  it  was  never  sung  with 
a  greater  zest  or  livelier  feeling  of  common  broth- 
erhood. His  congregation  was  at  one  time  so  large 
that  the  aisles  of  the  church  were  temporarily  fur- 
nished with  extra  seats. 

"  The  sad  intelligence  of  his  death,  on  that  mourn- 
ful Sabbath,  caused  more  than  one  heart  to  throb  pain- 
fully as  they  realized  that  a  friend  had  gone,  that  a 
noble  soul  had,  in  the  impulsiveness  of  a  heroic  nature, 
and  at  what  he  considered  the  imperative  demand  of 
duty,  which  appeared  to  be  his  guiding  star  through 
life  and  his  watchword  in  death,  passed  from  the 
Church  militant  to  the  Church  triumphant." 


CHAPTER    III. 


EPISODES. 


"  Tears  of  the  widower,  when  he  sees 
A  late  lost  form  that  sleep  reveals, 
And  moves  his  doubtful  arms  and  feels 
Her  place  is  empty." 

"  Dearest  sister  !  thou  hast  left  us  ! 
Here  thy  loss  we  deeply  feel." 

"  He  passed  ;  a  soul  of  nobler  tone : 
My  spirit  loved  and  loves  him  yet." 

"  My  mother !  when  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead, 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  the  tears  I  shed  ? " 

MONG  the  extra-parochial  labors  of  our  pas- 
tor was  the  issuing  a  new  edition  of  the 
works  of  his  sister  Margaret.  She  left  a 
large  quantity  of  manuscript,  which  the 
pressure  of  her  occupations  and  the  frailty  of  her 
health  had  not  permitted  her  to  put  into  book  form. 
This  task  was  now  achieved  by  her  brother,  partly  as 
supplemental  to  books  already  published,  and  also  in 
a  new  volume  entitled  Life  Without  and  Life  Within. 
The  first  book  he  issued  in  this  way  was  Woman  in 
the  Nineteenth  Century.  He  writes  in  reference  to  it : 
"  I  have  done  my  best  and  hardest  work  on  this  book. 
The  labor  of  compiling  and  superintending  such  a  pub- 
lication and  correcting  the  proof  is  greater  than  I 
could  have  conceived  possible.  It  is  done,  and  I  thank 


142  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

God  for  giving  me  strength  to  do  it.  I  pray  that  it 
may  contribute  to  do  justice  to  her  merits.  That  is 
all  the  reward  I  can  expect,  and  that  reward  would  be 
so  noble,  so  holy  !  " 

The  profits  from  the  sale  of  her  memoirs  and  works 
were  applied  to  paying  her  honorary  debts,  which  she 
had  contracted  with  friends,  on  a  fair  understanding 
of  her  present  and  probable  future  inability  to  repay, 
and  which  her  family  ultimately  had  the  satisfaction  to 
cancel  from  the  posthumous  fruits  of  her  character 
displayed  in  her  memoirs  and  her  writings  edited  by 
her  brother  Arthur.  He  had  the  satisfaction  at  last 
to  announce :  "  Margaret's  debts  are  all  paid,  every 
dollar !  That  sacred  trust  to  us  is  now  fulfilled." 

In  his  private  correspondence,  he  frequently  alludes 
to  these  books.  "  I  think,"  he  says,  referring  to  the 
first  named,  "it  has  something  adapted  to  every  ca- 
pacity. The  story  of  "Aglauron  and  Laurie"  must 
interest  the  most  careless  reader,  and  the  letters  will 
arrest  the  attention  of  the  most  hurried,  while  the 
Woman  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  meets  the  wants  of 
the  profound  thinker." 

Again  he  writes  in  relation  to  his  editorial  toil : 
"  This  has  been  a  labor  of  love,  which  I  have  joyed  in, 
and  have  esteemed  a  privilege,  and  not  a  burden.  If 
I  only  live  to  send  forth  Margaret's  works  from  the 
press,  as  they  should  appear,  I  shall  not  have  lived 
wholly  in  vain."  He  says  in  another  letter :  "  One 
of  the  things  for  which  I  have  labored  most  in  these 
latter  years,  and  wish  to  complete  before  going  hence 
to  be  seen  no  more  on  earth,  is  the  erection  of  suit- 
able memorials  to  Margaret's  memory.  These  are 


EPISODES.  143 

not  to  be  the  cold  and  passionless  marble  only,  but  vol- 
umes of  her  warm  and  earnest  thoughts,  so  high  and 
so  noble  !  " 

The  reverential  affection  which  he  gratefully  cher- 
ished for  this  sister  led  him  also  earnestly  to  co-operate 
with  his  mother  in  adorning  the  family  resting-place  in 
the  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery  in  Cambridge.  This 
had  been  a  favorite  resort  of  Margaret;  here  she 
loved  to  walk  and  meditate.  And  here  the  mother 
had  purchased  a  spot,  comprising  several  lots,  for  her 
cenotaph  and  monument,  the  commemoration  also  of 
her  gallant  husband,  and  the  last  resting-place  of  her 
little  Angelo.  To  this  spot,  too,  the  bones  of  the  never- 
forgotten  father  were  removed,  and  suitably  commemo- 
rated. And  here  bloomed  the  fair  and  cherished  favor- 
ites of  the  mother,  whose  flowery  tongues  told  the  tale 
of  affliction,  faith,  and  love,  while  they  breathed  up  the 
aromatic  tribute  of  devoted  memory.  The  lot  is  situ- 
ated upon  Pyrola  Path,  not  far  from  the  tower. 

Alas !  death  soon  gathered  into  this  green  garner 
other  forms,  cut  off  in  the  bloom  of  life.  In  1856  he 
was  fatally  busy  with  the  pastor's  household  and  kin- 
dred. He  opened  the  year  by  removing  a  young  wife 
and  mother  from  the  bosom  of  Richard's  family ;  and 
before  the  year's  close,  two  who  had  mourned  for  her 
were  laid  in  the  same  resting-place,  —  the  pastor's  wife 
and  sister. 

It  was  the  fourth  day  of  March  when  his  wife  was 
suddenly  snatched  from  the  family  circle,  leaving  an 
infant  but  a  few  weeks  old.  In  reference  to  this 
event,  he  writes :  "  It  is  God  who  alone  can  speak  to 
me  words  of  comfort ;  and  through  the  Holy  Spirit  he 


144  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

does  so.  Much  as  I  mourn,  I  am  sustained."  Nor 
was  he  wanting,  too,  in  the  balm  of  human  consolation 
poured  into  the  wound  by  near  friends,  and  by  a  people 
who  tenderly  sympathized  with  him.  His  parish  not 
only  took  upon  themselves  the  funeral  obsequies,  beau- 
tifully performed  in  the  church  and  burial-place,  but 
they  passed  a  kindly  vote  of  condolence,  with  some 
weeks'  leave  of  absence. 

In  September  of  that  year,  his  sister,  Mrs.  Ellen 
Channing,  died  in  a  decline.  The  flame  of  her  spirit 
burned  with  increased  brilliancy  in  the  hectic  of  her 
cheek  and  in  the  eye's  seraphic  radiance,  just  before  it 
was  caught  up,  to  burn  with  the  lights  above. 

Hers  were  the  bright  brow  and  the  ringlet  hair, 
The  mind,  that  ever  dwelt  i'  the  pure  ideal ; 
Herself  a  fairer  figure  of  the  real 

Than  those  the  plastic  fancy  moulds  of  air. 

The  sorrows  of  the  pastor  led  him  to  seek  occasion- 
ally a  change  of  scene.  But  he  never  wished  to  inter- 
mit his  labors  in  the  Lord ;  and  we  still  find  him  advo- 
cating the  loved  cause  of  his  Master.  He  made  two 
visits  to  Judge  Nahum  Ward,  at  Marietta,  Ohio. 
From  this  place  he  writes :  "I  am  pleasantly  situated 
here.  I  have  everything  needful  for  my  comfort,  and 
enjoy  the  beautiful  scenery.  Marietta  is  the  most 
ancient  place  in  Ohio.  It  was  settled  in  1788,  by 
inhabitants  of  New  England,  and  retains  all  its  early 
characteristics.  It  is  indeed  more  of  a  New  England 
than  Western  place.  Mr.  Ward  is  a  grandson  of  Gen- 
eral Artemas  Ward  of  the  American  Revolution,  and  is 
a  noble,  generous-hearted  man,  preserving  also  great 
energy  and  a  fine  religious  character.  As  proof  of  his 


EPISODES.  145 

generosity  and  Christian  zeal,  he  has  built  a  church 
here,  the  handsomest,  if  not  most  costly,  in  the  State, 
and  all  at  his  own  expense  ;  and  now  he  will  pay  the 
minister's  salary,  and  that  generously,  certainly  for  a 
time.  I  find  him  a  very  intelligent  companion,  abound- 
ing in  reminiscences  of  his  journeyings  and  adventures 
in  his  early  days.  Lafayette  visited  him  when  in  this 
country,  and  presented  him  with  a  cane,  on  which  he 
had  often  leaned  when  in  the  Austrian  dungeon  at 
Olumtz.  Mr.  Ward  has  travelled  widely  in  Europe, 
and  seen  there  many  celebrated  men." 

Our  pastor  was  the  first  preacher  in  this  newly- 
erected  church,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  found  the 
Sabbath  school  there,  which  remembered  him  after  his 
death. 

He  frequently  gave  the  public  an  account  of  his 
journeys,  through  the  medium  of  newspaper  corre- 
spondence. He  thus  speaks  of  Trenton  Falls  :  "  That 
deep  ravine  worn  through  the  solid  rock,  that  river  of 
amber  water,  assuming  every  shape  of  grandeur  and 
beauty,  now  scatters  pearls  in  torrents,  and  now  reposes 
in  a  deep  basin,  whose  dark  depths  reflect  the  arbor- 
vitas  trees,  and  fair  flowers  fringing  its  banks  and 
stooping  down  to  kiss  the  sparkling  waters.  Who 
could  behold  all  this  without  a  thought  of  that  river 
of  life,  whose  waters  are  clear  as  crystal,  which  wan- 
ders through  scenes  yet  more  resplendent  with  glory, 
and  whose  banks  are  adorned  by  the  tree  of  life,  of 
which  the  arbor-vitas  is  an  emblem,  and  flowers  that 
never  fade  ?  " 

He  gives  an  account  of  a  lady  preacher  who  offi- 
ciated, on  the  Sabbath,  at  Trenton  village.  "  A  rude 
7  j 


146  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

platform,"  he  says,  "  had  been  erected  ;  but  it  looked 
finely,  decorated  with  oak-wreaths  and  adorned  with 
flowers.  The  meeting  was  toward  evening,  when  the 
glare  of  the  sunlight  is  over,  and  only  the  shimmer  of 
light  among  the  leaves  is  noted.  The  preacher,  taste- 
fully dressed  in  white,  was  evidently  a  modest,  unpre- 
tending woman.  We  had  some  fear  lest  her  words 
should  mar,  rather  than  aid  the  effect  of  the  occasion, 
but  were  happily  disappointed.  Her  quiet  manner, 
clear  articulation,  and  purity,  even  holiness  of  look  and 
word,  were  in  unison  with  the  scene  and  the  hour. 
Her  text  was  from  Psalms,  '  Your  heart  shall  live 
forever.'  She  aimed  to  exhibit  the  undying  nature 
of  human  affection,  and  to  prove  therefrom  both  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  and  also  the  immortality  of 
those  pure  friendships,  domestic  ties,  and  holy  relations 
which,  on  earth,  make  almost  heaven  in  our  homes 
and  hearts.  The  sermon  did  not  exhibit  much  origi- 
nality or  power  of  thought;  yet  its  purity  of  tone, 
earnestness  of  appeal,  and  fervent  sincerity  commended 
it  both  to  the  heart  and  judgment  of  the  hearers,  while 
her  modest  bearing  disarmed  any  prejudice  against 
her  as  a  woman  seeking  to  be  a  public  teacher.  Her 
intonation  and  articulation  were  almost  faultless." 

From  Trenton  he  proceeds  to  Niagara,  of  which  he 
writes :  — 

"  This  magnificent  scene  grows  upon  the  mind 
and  heart  every  hour.  One  may  be  soon  satisfied  at 
other  places ;  but  here  the  old  feeling  and  request 
comes  up,  '  Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  ! '  Let 
us  build  tabernacles,  and  abide  till  the  death  hour ; 
yea!  be  buried  on  these  banks,  and  let  this  mighty 


EPISODES.  147 

organ-pipe  chant  our  requiem,  wliile  the  rainbows 
which  span  the  falls  by  day,  and  no  less  on  each  moon- 
light night,  speak  auguries  of  hope  and  heavenly  glory 
to  the  departed  soul. 

"  But  who  can  describe  Niagara  ?  What  voice,  save 
its  own  mighty  one,  can  speak  its  charms ;  what  pen 
but  that  of  inspiration  could  write  adequately  of  its 
glories  ?  I  think,  in  a  reverent  mind  the  all-absorbing 
feeling  is,  that  Grod  is  here ;  this  is  his  temple  ;  he  is 
speaking  ;  and  when  the  Lord  is  in  his  holy  temple,  and 
speaks  to  man,  let  all  the  earth  keep  silence  before  him  !  " 

He  sought  recreation,  too,  on  the  White  Hills,  in 
New  Hampshire.  "Here  I  am,"  he  writes,  "pay- 
ing a  visit  to  the  '  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.'  This 
locality  is  grand  and  beautiful  beyond  my  conception. 
4  Echo  Lake  '  deserves  its  name,  repeating  some 
twenty  times  the  cannon's  loud  report,  and  returning 
the  notes  of  the  bugle  as  if  a  band  of  music  were  in 
full  play.  To-morrow  I  go  to  the  Flume,  where  my 
friend,  Mr.  Smith,  was  struck  dead.  The  scene  will 
be  mournful,  yet  attractive  too.  How  much  beauty 
there  often  is,  even  in  sadness ;  as  these  mountains 
sometimes  look  most  beautiful  when  veiled  in  clouds, 
from  which  the  rainy  tear-drops  are  falling." 

The  mountain  beauties  roused  his  devotional  heart 
to  make  a  Bethel  of  the  place,  and  raise  his  voice  in 
exposition  of  the  grand  language  of  Nature.  "  We 
had  a  sermon,"  says  a  correspondent  of  the  press, 
writing  from  the  mountains,  "from  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Fuller,  of  Boston,  which  I  scarcely  ever  heard  sur- 
passed. In  speaking  of  the  mountains,  he  traced  the 
hand  of  God  in  every  waterfall  and  every  rock ;  every- 


CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

thing  which  he  had  seen  had  talked  to  him  of  his 
Maker." 

In  his  journeyings,  the  pastor  often  turned  aside 
from  the  habitations  of  the  living  to  meditate  in  "  the 
village  of  the  dead."  His  repeated  bereavements  led 
him  to  think  much  of  death,  but  never  with  gloom. 
He  regarded  it  as  the  portal  of  glory  for  those  who 
sleep  in  Christ,  on  whose  solemn  threshold  he  loved  to 
muse.  His  faith  was  entire.  He  said  he  could  say  of 
his  trust,  "I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth."  He 
did  not  wear  the  mourning  weed  for  his  friends  ;  and 
he  always  wished  the  light  of  faith  to  relieve  the 
shadow  of  natural  grief  in  the  funeral  obsequies  of  the 
Christian.  To  him  cemeteries  were  eloquent  with  life- 
lessons  taught  in  the  memorials  of  death.  He  was 
thus  led  to  trace  thoughtfully  the  time-worn  inscrip- 
tion, and  he  published  many  accounts  of  cemeteries. 
Among  these  may  be  mentioned  descriptions  of  the 
burial-places  of  Quincy,  Waltham,  and  Newton.  He 
has  given  an  account,  too,  of  the  solemn  prairie  cem- 
etery, seeming  in  the  vast  emerald  reach  of  the  hori- 
zon like  burial  at  sea. 

The  little  graves  had  for  him  a  voice  of  peculiar 
pathos,  yet  of  glad  faith  and  hope.  On  this  theme  he 
says :  "  How  beautiful,  though  sad,  is  death  in  child- 
hood !  Beautiful,  for  it  is  only  death  in  semblance, 
and  in  reality  the  beginning  of  a  painless,  joyous  life  ! 
Beautiful,  because  with  the  death  of  that  infant  form, 
ah1  tendency  of  disease  whether  in  soul  or  body,  all 
fear  of  becoming  a  sinner,  all  temptation,  all  grief, 
have  to  that  soul  died.  I  never  feel  surer  of  immor- 
tality, than  when  looking  upon  such  a  casket,  from 


EPISODES.  149 

which  the  angel  we  call  Death  has  removed  the  jewel. 
There  must  be  a  land  where  that  bud  shall  unfold, 
those  undeveloped  capacities  be  expanded,  those  un- 
tried powers  put  forth,  and  the  end  of  such  a  creation 
answered.  This  life  were  a  sad,  a  vexing  problem  — 
yes,  and  a  wretched  boon  to  man  —  were  not  another 
and  a  better  life  attainable  beyond  it.  The  future 
must  be  the  interpreter  of  the  present,  its  compensa- 
tion too." 

During  the  period  of  which  we  are  now  treating,  our 
pastor  was  twice  elected  a  chaplain  in  the  legislature 
of  Massachusetts,  —  in  1854,  of  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, and  in  1858,  of  the  Senate.  It  happens 
that  one  of  his  prayers  in  the  legislative  body  was 
transcribed,  and  we  insert  it  here  as  a  specimen  of  the 
brief  and  comprehensive  supplication,  which  he  thought 
best  adapted  to  such  an  occasion. 

"  O  wise  and  beneficent  Being,  who  dwellest  in 
light  ineffable,  unseen  by  physical  sense,  but  visible  to 
the  eye  of  faith !  we  approach  thee  now  with  filial 
confidence  and  trust ! 

"  Earnestly  do  we  covet  the  best  gifts,  — that  faith 
which  can  remove  mountains  of  obstacles  from  our 
pathway,  that  charity  which  suffereth  long  and  is  kind, 
that  love  which  worships  God  by  serving  and  helping 
our  brother  man,  that  hope  which  is  an  anchor  to  the 
soul  amid  all  life's  storms  ! 

"  O  Lord !  help  us  really  to  live,  —  not  merely  to 
exist  and  to  while  away  our  passing  hours,  but  to  live 
in  deeds  more  than  years,  live  in  high  thoughts,  pure 
emotions,  lofty  desires  !  O  Heavenly  Father  !  how 
many  of  those  who  think  they  live  are  really  dead,  — 


150  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  dead  in  all  but  the  animal 
nature  ;  whilst  many  whom  the  world  calls  dead  yet 
truly  live,  yet  speak  to  us,  think  for  us,  and  influence 
us,  by  their  deathless  thoughts,  immortal  deeds  and 
memories  !  Help  us  to  live  much,  even  in  few  years  ; 
and  if,  when  we  perish  as  to  the  body,  the  silvered  locks 
and  furrowed  brow  be  not  ours,  yet  may  our  time  have 
been  long,  because  useful,  our  death  not  premature, 
because  we  had  early  accomplished  life's  great  end ! 

"  And  Thine  shall  be  the  praise  forever.     Amen !  " 

We  have  been  favored  with  a  note  from  Colonel 
Robert  I.  Burbank,  a  gentleman  favorably  known  in 
the  legislature  and  forum.  Having  been  a  contem- 
porary member  of  the  House,  he  thus  speaks  of  Chap- 
lain Fuller. 

"  I  take  very  great  pleasure  in  stating,  that  during 
the  whole  session  his  punctuality,  his  urbane  and 
genial  manners,  his  patriotism,  his  fervency  in  prayer, 
and  his  Christian  spirit  and  devotion,  were  the  theme 
of  universal  admiration. 

"I  remember  well  to  have  noted,  and  frequently 
at  the  close  of  the  session  to  have  heard  it  said,  that  so 
appropriate  had  been  his  language,  that  from  no  words 
of  his  could  be  inferred  his  political  or  denominational 
sentiments. 

"  He  was  exceedingly  beloved  by  us  all.  His  zeal  in 
the  fitting  discharge  of  his  duties  then  was  only  the 
offspring  of  those  noble  qualities  of  heart  and  soul 
which  impelled  him,  near  the  close  of  his  useful  ca- 
reer, to  deeds  of  prowess,  which  have  immortalized 
his  memory." 

The  summer  journeyings  of  our  pastor  were   the 


EPISODES.  151 

occasion  of  pleasant  family  letters,  which  blended  the 
musings  of  a  pious  heart  with  expressions  of  family 
love.  From  life's  meridian,  he  thus  writes :  "  This  is 
my  birthday,  and  brings  with  it  many  meditations  as  to 
the  past  and  presaging  thoughts  of  the  future.  Yes, 
to-day  I  am  thirty-five  ;  and  have  lived  half  the  term 
allotted  to  man !  I  ask  myself  whether  half  life's  work 
is  done,  and  if  so,  cannot  but  feel  how  little  will  be 
the  entire  sum.  Yet  these  years  have  teemed  with 
incident,  much  that  is  tragic,  more  that  is  sweet  and 
pleasant.  The  tide  is  bearing  me  on  to  the  grave  ; 
nay,  not  so  !  rather,  I  trust,  toward  heaven's  shoreless 
ocean,  where  my  little  bark,  so  long  tossed  on  life's 
heaving  sea,  may  float  forever  on  those  joyous  waters, 
where  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  shall  swell  its  sails,  and 
waft  it  from  one  scene  of  beatitude  to  another." 

In  1859,  when  his  mother's  ill  health  had  assumed 
a  character  so  serious  as  to  denote  an  issue  not  far 
removed,  he  thus  writes  to  her,  on  the  15th  of 
February,  her  birthday  :  — 

"  I  will  not  let  this  day  go  by  without  a  word  ex- 
pressive of  my  constant  love  and  daily  memory  of  you. 
This,  too,  is  the  birthday  of  my  little  boy ;  and  I  blend 
together  in  my  thoughts  the  two  dearest  objects  of 
affection,  —  my  children  and  my  mother. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  mother,  I  have  only  this  word 
of  greeting  to  utter,  —  may  God  bless  you  and  make 
this  year  full  of  happiness  to  you ;  and  if  it  prove  your 
last,  or  witness  your  birth  into  another  sphere,  may  it 
yet  be  fraught  with  richest,  choicest,  most  precious 
blessings,  and  be  the  happiest  which  your  life,  so 
varied  in  its  sorrow  and  joy,  has  ever  known." 


152  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

In  a  letter  to  Eugene  he  thus  refers  to  his  mother's 
sickness,  which  confined  her  for  several  of  the  last 
months  of  her  life  to  a  sick-chamber :  "  I  have  just  re- 
turned from  Wayland,  where  I  go  every  two  or  three 
days  to  visit  our  beloved  mother.  We  found  her  still 
quite  ill,  but  more  comfortable,  always  thinking  of  you 
and  her  other  dear  ones,  expecting  death,  whenever  it 
may  come,  as  a  solemn  but  sweet  reality,  and  as  the 
herald  to  a  brighter  region." 

In  another  letter  to  the  same  brother,  he  refers 
again  to  his  mother :  "  Nothing  could  be  more  serene 
and  radiant  than  her  sick-chamber.  The  little  children 
all  seek  it,  as  the  one  joyous,  sunny  spot  in  the  whole 
house,  where  they  are  ever  sure  of  wisdom  and  love, 
blended  together  in  every  word." 

Thus  did  she  draw  near  eternity.  But  Eugene 
reached  it  several  weeks  in  advance,  through  the  ocean 
portals,  being  lost  overboard  in  his  homeward  voyage 
from  New  Orleans.  In  the  mother's  state  of  health  it 
was  thought  best  not  to  communicate  an  event  to  her 
which  might  add  a  mortal  pang  to  her  last  hours  and 
speed  her  malady.  Finding  no  allusion  made  to  Eu- 
gene, she  asked  Richard  if  he  had  gone  before  her,  a 
remark  which  he  evaded  without  answering.  She  saw 
in  a  moment  -the  purpose  to  withhold  from  her  sad  and 
exciting  tidings,  and  meekly  suppressing  the  anxious 
questioning  of  a  mother's  heart,  she  never  alluded  to 
the  subject  again. 

She  continued  cheerful,  fully  supported  by  her 
beloved  Lord,  and  drawing  near  with  bright  and  joy- 
ous anticipations  the  heavenly  world  which,  with  her 
Saviour,  held  so  many  of  her  heart's  treasures.  We 


EPISODES.  153 

remember  turning  to  hide  a  starting  tear  on  an  occa- 
sion when  she  spoke  of  her  interest  in  the  growing 
corn,  hoping  a  plenteous  harvest,  without  one  sigh  at 
the  thought  of  the  other  harvest-home  where  she 
would  then  be  gathered. 

She  entered  sweetly  on  her  glorious  rest,  on  Sabbath 
morning,  July  31st,  1859,  the  same  day  that  termi- 
nated the  Boston  pastorate  of  her  son  Arthur. 

In  her  sickness  she  watched  with  interest  the  grow- 
ing attachment  of  her  son  for  Miss  Emma  L.  Reeves, 
a  sister  of  Richard's  wife.  She  expressed  a  wish  that 
the  marriage  might  not  be  deferred  on  account  of  her 
departure  for  the  better  land,  and  it  took  place  accord- 
ingly in  September  of  the  same  year.* 

* .  We  take  the  liberty  to  insert  a  few  unpretending  verses  from  the  pen 
of  the  bride,  in  reference  to  her  husband's  children. 

"  Maidens  wove  white  buds  and  leaflets, 

Sweet  and  pure  as  they, 
Feverfew  and  mignonette, 
In  a  fair  bouquet. 

"  But  a  loving  hand  brought  dearer, 

Fairer  flowers  than  they, 
And  he  placed  them  in  my  bosom, 
Not  to  fade  away. 

"  One  a  bud,  but  just  revealing 

Rich  and  roseate  shades, 
With  a  sweetness  aromatic 
As  the  Indian  glades. 

"  And  beside  it  is  my  Lily's 

Alabaster  cup, 

Raising  pure  and  perfumed  petals 
Gently,  heavenward,  up. 

"  Ye  are  welcome  to  my  bosom, 

Choice,  immortal  flowers ! 
Heavenly  Gardener!  help  me  train  them 
For  thy  fadeless  bowers !  " 

7* 


154  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

The  husband,  in  a  private  letter  from  the  army,  thus 
refers  to  his  second  marriage :  "  In  my  mother's  sick- 
chamber  appeared  a  ministering  angel.  Her  love  for 
my  mother,  and  devoted,  tender  care  for  long,  weary 
months,  her  love  of  flowers  and  children,  her  poetical 
tastes,  and,  above  all,  her  consistent  piety,  and  the  evi- 
dent leading  of  Providence,  caused  me  to  form  another 
attachment  as  true  and  tender  as  the  first." 

He  now  entered  upon  house-keeping  in  Watertown, 
which  he  continued  till  he  was  appointed  army  chap- 
lain, a  period  of  his  life  to  which  we  shall  now  give 
exclusive  attention. 


PART    III. 


THE    ARMY    CHAPLAIN 


"  Who  is  the  happy  Warrior?     Who  is  he 
That  every  man  in  arms  should  wish  to  be  ? 
—  It  is  the  generous  spirit,  who,  when  brought 
Among  the  tasks  of  real  life, 

Controls  them  and  subdues,  transmutes,  bereaves 
Of  their  bad  influence,  and  the  good  receives  : 

Who  comprehends  his  trust,  and  to  the  same 
Keeps  faithful  with  a  singleness  of  aim  ; 

And,  through  the  heat  of  conflict,  keeps  the  law 
In  calmness  made,  and  sees  what  he  foresaw ; 

Whom  neither  shape  of  danger  can  dismay, 
Nor  thought  of  tender  happiness  betray  ; 
Who,  not  content  that  former  worth  stand  fast, 
Looks  forward,  persevering  to  the  last, 
From  well  to  better  daily  self-surpast ; 

Finds  comfort  in  himself  and  in  his  cause  ; 
And,  while  the  mortal  mist  is  gathering,  draws 
His  breath  in  confidence  of  Heaven's  applause  : 
This  is  the  happy  warrior ;  this  is  he 
Whom  every  man  hi  arms  should  wish  to  be. " 

WORDSWORTH. 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE   GEEAT   REBELLION. 

"  And  after  that  he  must  be  loosed  a  little  season." 

APOCALYPSE. 

'  Whence  and  what  art  thou,  execrable  Shape, 
That  dar'st,  though  grim  and  terrible,  advance 
Thy  miscreated  front  ? 

Art  thou  that  traitor  Angel,  art  thou  he 

Who  first  broke  peace  in  heaven,  and  faith  till  then 

Unbroken,  and  in  proud  rebellious  arms 

Drew  after  him  the  third  part  of  Heaven's  sons, 

Conjured  against  the  Highest  ? 

.        .        .    Back  to  thy  punishment ! "  A 

PARADISE  LOST. 

HE  attention  of  our  New  England  pastor  now 
became  closely  fixed  upon  national  affairs, 
which  daily  wore  a  more  threatening  aspect. 
He  watched  the  issue  with  the  anxious  re- 
gard of  a  patriot,  a  Christian,  and  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel.  With  the  children  of  the  Puritan,  these 
three  terms  are  convertible.  American  patriotism  is 
not  solely  the  love  for  the  Republic,  which  burned  in 
the  breast  of  the  devoted  Roman,  or  instigated  the 
Greek  to  almost  superhuman  valor.  The  Puritan  had 
sundered  the  natural,  and  sacrificed  the  mere  instinc- 
tive love  of  country,  to  seek  beyond  the  vast  ocean  a 
new  country,  where  he  would  be  at  liberty  to  worship 
God  according  to  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience. 


158  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

This  he  sought,  and  this  has  bound  his  heart  to  his 
new  home.  His  love  of  liberty  and  of  country  is, 
therefore,  always  a  love  of  the  open  Bible,  with  freedom 
of  unfettered  development  in  all  directions  of  the  man- 
hood which  speaks  in  every  original  feature  the  like- 
ness of  its  Divine  Maker.  Therefore  patriotism  in 
America,  more  than  anywhere  else  in  history,  is  an 
intensely  religious  sentiment ;  and  they  are  found  to 
love  their  countiy  most  who  love  God  most,  —  to  ren- 
der the  best  military  service  on  the  battle-fields  of 
patriotism,  who  are  the  best  soldiers  of  the  cross. 
Nor  do  they  doff  one  uniform  when  they  don  the 
other.  They  see  in  the  loved  stars  and  stripes  of  the 
Union  the  standard  of  the  cross  ;  and  they  follow  their 
Master  to  war  against  rebellion,  as  did  the  Israelites 
the  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire,  as  did  the  army  of  Con- 
stan^ne  the  crucifix  which  glowed  in  the  sky. 

The  guardian,  therefore,  of  the  religious  interests 
of  the  Puritan  race  watches  carefully,  too,  the  vestal 
flame  of  patriotism.  An  important  part  of  his  theology 
is  the  history  of  his  country ;  and  as  a  watchman  on 
Zion's  walls,  it  is  his  duty  to  signalize  every  approach- 
ing foe  to  freedom.  The  politician  does  not  study 
public  affairs  more  intently  than  the  pastor ;  and,  as  he 
takes  the  lead  in  religion,  he  holds  the  same  place  in 
patriotism.  Thus  our  Gospel  ministers,  in  the  almost 
theocracy  of  American  liberty,  are  like  the  Elijahs, 
Ezekiels,  and  Isaiahs,  who  guarded  the  integrity  of  the 
nation  as  a  part  of  their  spiritual  charge. 

In  the  country,  too,  of  the  "  Church  without  a 
Bishop,"  there  has  been  no  apportionment  of 'religious 
ethics,  assigning  one  share  to  the  laity  and  another  to 


THE    GKEAT   REBELLION.  159 

the  clergy.  What  is  right  for  the  one  is  for  the  other. 
And  what  the  Christian  clergyman  may  not  do  is 
alike  unlawful  for  the  Christian  layman.  Hence,  not 
only  have  the  clergy  of  America  sent  their  petitions  to 
Congress  against  the  expansion  of  the  national  area 
furnishing  new  fields  for  slavery  propagandism  ;  but 
when  the  guns  of  Fort  Suniter  proclaimed  the  out- 
breaking of  rebellion,  they  rushed  to  their  country's 
standard,  some  in  the  pastoral  robe,  some  sword  in 
hand,  captains  or  privates  in  the  Church  militant ;  no 
more  hesitating  for  clerical  punctilio,  than  they  would 
to  serve  as  posse  comitatus  of  the  angel  Michael  for  the 
imprisonment  of  the  Dragon. 

The  religious  nature  of  American  patriotism  has  given 
it  a  characteristic  very  puzzling  to  those  who  understand 
only  the  instinct  of  patriotism.  The  Bible  has  enlarged 
the  Puritan's  heart  to  the  utmost  borders  of  the  world. 
Religion  has  transformed  it  from  the  contracted  geo- 
graphical sentiment  to  a  cosmopolitan  patriotism,  whose 
country  is  the  world,  whose  countrymen  are  all  man- 
kind. It  cannot  be  restricted  to  the  earthly  precinct 
hallowed  by  the  accident  of  birth,  although  it  loves  it 
because  of  its  Gospel  liberty,  and  as  affording  a  step- 
ping-stone to  a  better  country,  that  is  a  heavenly. 
Therefore  its  declaration  of  rights  does  not  say,  we  are 
free  and  equal ;  but  all  men  are  born  free  and  equal, 
endowed  with  certain  inalienable  rights,  among  which 
are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  It  will 
not,  therefore,  be  accessary  to  fetters  imposed  by  an- 
other ;  nor  can  it  be  satisfied  while  there  are  any  groan- 
ing under  oppression,  by  whose  bonds  it  is  galled,  as 
bound  with  them.  True,  while  it  insists  upon  washing 


160  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

its  own  hands  in  innocency,  it  will  seek  to  deliver  those 
oppressed  from  other's  wrongs,  by  prayer  to  God  and 
by  the  power  of  public  opinion,  rather  than  by  carnal 
weapons.  Yet  it  cannot  be  indifferent  nor  inactive,  in 
its  legitimate  moral  sphere,  while  the  sighs  of  a  down- 
trodden brother-man  are  wafted  to  it  by  the  farthest 
wind. 

The  religious  character  of  the  sentiment  makes  it 
repudiate  with  holy  horror  the  maxim,  "  Our  country 
right  or  wrong,"  if  the  latter  phrase  be  taken  to  mean 
more  than  a  mistaken  policy,  and  imply  further  the 
perpetration  of  national  crime.  The  Puritan's  children 
love  their  country  as  a  province  of  God's  domain ;  and 
while  they  will,  with  a  cordial  willingness  beyond 
others,  render  to  the  subordinate  government  all  which 
is  not  due  to  higher  claims,  they  will  never  take  its 
part  in  rebellion  against  the  Supreme  Ruler. 

These  remarks  explain  the  participation  of  our  clergy 
in  the  work  of  suppressing  rebellion,  and  furnish  the 
key  to  the  course  of  Chaplain  Fuller,  to  be  unfolded  in 
our  narrative.  They  are  not,  probably,  at  all  needed 
by  our  countrymen  and  times.  Yet  the  voice  of  a 
published  volume  is  liable  to  extend  to  other  countries 
and  other  times,  to  whom  our  holy  cause  ought  to  be 
fairly  presented. 

For  the  same  reason,  we  deem  it  necessary  to  make 
a  very  brief  statement  of  the  causes  which  have  led  to 
a  rebellion  against  the  best  government  mankind  has 
enjoyed,  and  which  has  been  the  repository  of  the 
world's  hopes  of  freedom,  —  a  rebellion  with  no  pre- 
cedent upon  earth,  and  but  one  in  heaven. 

Briefly,  then,  let  it  be  noted,  that,  as  in  the   days 


THE   GREAT  REBELLION.  161 

of  Job,  where  the  children  of  God  resorted,  the  Ad- 
versary also  came  with  them ;  so,  in  American  colo- 
nization, with  the  Puritan  purpose  was  embodied  an 
antagonistic  element.  Not  merely  did  the  lovers  of 
God  seek  a  sanctuary  of  freedom  in  the  new  world,  but 
devotees  of  pride,  indolence,  and  Mammon,  and  needy 
adventurers,  hungry  for  spoil,  came  also.  In  Mexico 
they  sacrilegiously  bore  the  crucifix  in  a  crusade  of 
plunder  and  oppression  ;  while  in  South  America  a  des- 
perado, who  had  been  foiled  in  petty  villany  at  home, 
so  magnified  the  scale  of  his  robbery  as  to  take  his 
place  among  those  giant  Scapins,  who  make  up  the 
catalogue  of  earth's  conquerors. 

In  the  Southern  colonies  of  North  America,  too,  the 
same  element  obtained  a  place,  implanting  the  tares 
of  oppression  in  the  area  of  liberty,  and  misotheism 
in  the  see  of  religion. 

These  elements  did  not  for  a  time  develop  their 
antagonism  ;  but  as  they  were  shaken  together  in  the 
course  of  history,  a  ferment  was  inevitable,  and  finally 
an  irrepressible  conflict,  till  the  sure  triumph  of  God's 
eternal  day  should  forever  dissipate  the  night.  Wick- 
edness always  evinces  its  lineage  from  the  Father  of 
Lies,  by  dissembling,  while  its  end  can  thus  be  accom- 
plished. Hence,  in  American  history,  while  the  word 
slave  was  carefully  excluded  from  the  Constitution, 
as  thrusting  a  lie  in  the  face  of  the  instrument,  it 
obtained  an  anonymous  place  in  the  fugitive  clause, 
hiding  in  liberty,  till  it  should  grow  strong,  and  con- 
fident to  raise  its  crest.  Latet  anguis  in  herbis. 

In  the  growth  of  the  country,  slavery  finds  leisure 
for  political  plotting  while  the  attention  of  liberty  is 


162  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

absorbed  in  thrift  and  industry.  It  concentrates,  too, 
its  attention  and  energies  upon  the  one  purpose  of  self- 
preservation  and  aggrandizement,  while  sectional  inter- 
ests are  unwarily  permitted  to  weaken  the  majority  it 
seeks  to  control.  In  its  own  domain  it  hateth  the  light 
because  its  deeds  are  evil,  and  violently  excludes  pub- 
lic instruction,  while,  by  grasping  the  landed  property, 
it  impoverishes  and  at  the  same  time  degrades  those 
whose  lot  is  not  cast  with  itself.  Thus  the  slave 
oligarchy  rules,  in  its  own  States,  a  poor,  ignorant 
white  population  of  twenty  times  its  number,  and  by 
means  of  this  is  able  to  control  the  policy  of  the  rest 
of  the  nation.  Its  eye  is  on  the  citadel  of  liberty,  to 
which  it  advances  by  secret  parallels,  and  these  paral- 
lels have  the  plausible  name  of  Compromises. 

The  Cerberus  of  slavery  looks  with  a  green-eyed 
watchfulness,  from  its  own  wasted  domain,  to  the  far 
exceeding  increase  of  the  children  of  liberty  ;  and  it  is 
constantly  contriving  devices  to  offset  this  augmenta- 
tion which  threatens  to  so  outnumber  slave  representa- 
tion as  to  be  no  longer  manageable.  Slavery,  like  the 
locusts,  can  only  flourish  by  spreading  from  land  it 
has  ravaged  to  newly  acquired  territory.  This  leads 
to  the  acquisition  of  Louisiana,  Texas,  the  war  with 
Mexico  waged  for  more  domain ;  and  by  compromise 
the  slave  oligarchy  partitions  the  fairest  regions  for  its 
blighting  spread.  Yet  wickedness  cannot  grow  so  fast 
as  virtue  and  industry  and  invention,  nor  the  darkness 
of  slavery  increase  like  the  light  of  liberty  under  the 
presiding  sun  of  Christian  righteousness.  Slavery  is 
alarmed  for  her  supremacy,  and  as  she  fails  to  keep 
step  with  Freedom  in  advancing  over  the  new  fields, 


THE   GREAT  REBELLION.  163 

she  contrives  fraud  and  crime.  She  raises  her  crest, 
thrusts  forth  her  hissing  tongue,  and  would  strike  her 
fangs  into  the  fair  bosom  of  Liberty.  Kansas  is  the 
first  theatre  of  unblushing  crime  attempted  by  the 
slave  oligarchy,  now  become  desperate.  A  supple  tool 
of  its  own  occupies  the  Presidential  chair  of  the  nation, 
and  all  the  means  of  government  are  at  its  command. 
Bribery,  corruption,  terror,  violence,  are  alternately 
levelled  at  the  ark  of  Liberty,  —  the  ballot-box.* 

But  the  crime  is  too  outrageous  for  the  Christian 
light  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  look  upon.  The 
"  north  star  is  at  last  discovered."  The  people  with- 
draw their  absorbed  attention  from  worldly  increase, 
and  fix  it  in  astonishment  upon  the  slave  power,  wear- 
ing now  a  disguise  so  thin  as  to  reveal  its  horrid 
deformity.  The  nation  is  about  to  speak,  and  in  its 
ominous  murmur,  which  already  begins  to  surge  like 
the  first  low  breath  of  an  overwhelming  tempest,  the 
quick  ear  of  the  slave  power  discerns  the  presage  of 
doom,  and  rouses  to  the  climax  of  crime,  "having 
great  wrath,  because  he  knoweth  that  he  hath  but  a 
short  time." 

The  slave  oligarchy  had  now  installed  in  the  White 
House  a  President  whose  public  career  has  given  his 
character  no  alternative  but  treason  or  beetle-blind- 
ness ;  which  horn  of  the  dilemma  shall  be  awarded 
him  we  leave  to  the  sentence  of  History.  Conspiracy 
was  in  his  Cabinet,  transferring  the  munitions  of  war 

*  It  cannot  be  necessary  to  refer  the  reader  to  tho  masterly  expose  of  the 
crimes  of  the  slave  power  contained  in  the  speeches  of  the  Massachusetts 
Senator,  entitled,  "  The  Crime  against  Kansas,"  and  "  The  Barbarism  of 
Slavery,"  and  indeed  all  the  utterances  of  that  eloquence,  whose  burden 
has  still  been,  Delenda  est  servitude  ! 


164  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

to  the  rendezvous  of  treason,  with  the  army  reduced 
to  a  shadow,  and  the  navy  despatched  to  distant  seas. 

The  nation  spoke  at  the  ballot-box,  and  commis- 
sioned Freedom  to  the  presidential  office.  The  com- 
mencement of  Abraham  Lincoln's  administration  found 
the  rebellion  armed  and  equipped  from  the  national 
storehouses,  and  the  government  disarmed  and  de- 
pleted by  the  preceding  administration. 

The  guns  of  Fort  Sumter  signalled  the  onset  of 
barbarism  and  oppression  upon  the  fairest  domain  that 
genuine  religion,  public  education,  brotherhood,  and 
liberty  had  ever  acquired.  In  no  heart  did  it  awaken 
a  more  patriotic  response  than  in  that  of  the  subject 
of  our  present  narrative.  We  indeed  arrogate  for  him 
no  superiority  nor  singularity  in  this  respect,  for,  thank 
God !  the  heart  and  voice  of  twenty  million  freemen 
in  this  exigency  was  as  that  of  one  man. 

Enthusiastic  Union  meetings  were  holden  in  every 
city  and  village  of  the  Free  States.  The  national  stars 
and  stripes  streamed  from  the  church,  school-house, 
mart,  factory,  and  private  dwelling  ;  so  that  bunting 
speedily  rose  to  a  fabulous  price,  and  could  not  be  had 
at  that.  Every  profession  and  calling  vied  with  each 
other  in  patriotic  expressions.  Committees  of  citizens 
waited  upon  the  few  presses  or  individuals  who  mani- 
fested any  symptoms  of  disloyalty,  and  compelled  them 
literally  to  display  their  colors,  and  define  satisfactorily 
their  position.  It  was  felt  that  the  nation's  critical 
hour  had  come,  and  called  for  prompt  and  united 
measures. 

Patriotic  and  military  enthusiasm  pervaded  all  classes. 
Boys  organized  themselves  into  armed  bands,  and  would 


THE    GREAT  REBELLION.  165 

gladly  have  shared  the  campaigns  of  their  sires.  Among 
these  may  be  mentioned  a  military  organization  of  young 
soldiers  in  Boston,  called  "  The  Fuller  Rifles,"  in  com- 
pliment to  the  chaplain. 

Among  the  public  meetings  everywhere  holden,  we 
have  the  account  of  one  in  Watertown,  in  which  "  the 
Rev.  Arthur  B.  Fuller  protested  against  '  any  further 
compromise  with  slavery.  Thus  far,  and  no  farther.' 
He  was  in  favor  of  the  Constitution  of  these  United 
States.  He  was  in  favor  of  a  settlement ;  but,  in  the 
language  of  Hon.  Charles  Sumner,  'Nothing  is  ever 
settled,  that  is  not  settled  right.'  Let  us  stand  right 
ourselves,  and  then  we  can  demand  right  from  others. 
He  urged  the  Republicans  to  stand  by  the  election  of 
Lincoln  and  Hamlin.  Protect  and  sustain  them.  He 
was  opposed  to  compromise,  —  even  to  the  admission 
of  New  Mexico,  —  because  it  would  be  in  violation  of 
our  platform,  and  at  variance  with  the  opinions  of  such 
honored  statesmen  as  Webster  and  Clay,  and  because 
it  interdicted  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel." 

After  the  Sabbath  labors  of  his  own  pulpit,  he  went 
to  the  camp,  where  the  soldiers  were  gathering,  and 
preached  to  them  in  the  temple  not  made  with  hands. 
Here  his  extempore  facility  and  pliancy  of  address 
to  the  needs  of  the  occasion  proved  very  effective,  and 
rendered  his  preaching  especially  valued  by  the  soldier. 
He  was  soon  chosen  chaplain  of  the  Sixteenth  Regi- 
ment of  Massachusetts  Volunteers,  and,  on  the  first 
day  of  August,  1861,  was  duly  commissioned  by  Gov- 
ernor Andrew. 

We  have  a  newspaper  report  of  a  sermon  he  preached 
at  Camp  Cameron,  Massachusetts,  which  may  give 


166  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

some  idea  of  his  manner  of  address  in  his  new  po- 
sition. 

"The  text  selected  was  the  sevententh  and  eight- 
eenth verses  of  the  thirty-second  chapter  of  Numbers  : 
'  But  we  ourselves  will  go  ready  armed  before  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel,  until  we  have  brought  them  into  their 
place :  and  our  little  ones  shall  dwell  in  the  fenced 
cities,  because  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  land.  We 
will  not  return  into  our  houses  until  the  children  of 
Israel  have  inherited  every  man  his  inheritance.' 
The  sermon  was  specially  designed  to  assure  those 
who  were  about  to  go  to  the  war  that  the  cause  they 
were  going  to  serve  was  a  holy  one,  and  had  the 
approbation  of  the  Lord  in  the  same  way  as  that  al- 
luded to  in  the  words  of  the  text.  There  was  some- 
thing, the  speaker  said,  extremely  similar  in  the  cir- 
cumstances of  our  inheritance  here  in  the  North,  on 
this  side  of  the  Potomac,  and  that  of  the  Jews.  They 
said,  '  We  will  not  inherit  with  them  on  yonder  side 
of  Jordan  ;  because  our  inheritance  is  fallen  to  us  on 
this  side  Jordan  eastward.'  This,  our  inheritance, 
it  was  proper  we  should  protect  and  defend  from  its 
enemies,  who  loved  not  America ;  that  we  should 
subdue  the  land  to  recognition  of  just  government, 
and  afterward  return,  and  be  guiltless  before  the  Lord, 
in  the  which  should  be  a  possession.  If  we  did  not  do 
so,  then  the  words  of  Moses  to  the  children  of  Reuben 
and  Gad  would  be  applicable  to  us  ;  we  would  sin 
against  the  Lord  ;  and  we  might  be  sure  our  sin  would 
find  us  out.  The  families  of  all  such  as  would  go  out 
to  battle  in  this  religious  war  —  for  it  was  a  religious 
one  —  would  be  well  protected  and  cared  for.  With- 


THE   GREAT   REBELLION.  167 

out  a  successful  subjugation  of  the  enemy  of  the  inher- 
itance we  had  to  bequeath  to  our  children,  that  inher- 
itance would  be  valueless ;  and  hence  our  duty  to  go 
forth,  fearlessly  and  valiantly,  for  the  rights  of  those 
we  loved.  This  was  the  motive  which  every  man  had 
at  heart ;  and  going  to  battle  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
they  would  carry  it  out." 

On  receiving  the  commission  of  chaplain,  he  re- 
signed his  pastorate  in  Watertown.  In  his  letter  of 
resignation  he  says :  "  The  moral  and  religious  wel- 
fare of  our  patriotic  soldiery  cannot  be  neglected  save 
to  the  demoralization  and  permanent  spiritual  injury 
of  those  who  are  perilling  their  all  in  our  country's 
cause.  The  regiment  represents  Middlesex  County 
on  the  tented  field,  the  county  in  which  I  was  born, 
and  which  my  honored  father  represented  in  our 
national  Congress ;  and  one  company  is  from  Water- 
town,  where  for  nearly  two  years  I  have  been  a  settled 
minister,  —  circumstances  which  give  this  call  of  duty 
a  peculiar  claim  upon  my  mind  and  heart.  I  am  will- 
ing to  peril  life  for  the  welfare  of  our  brave  soldiery, 
and  in  our  country's  cause.  If  God  requires  that  sacri- 
fice of  me,  it  shall  be  offered  on  the  altar  of  freedom, 
and  in  defence  of  all  that  is  good  in  American  institu- 
tions." 

Before  leaving  for  the  scene  of  war,  he  was  gratified 
by  a  presentation  visit  from  his  friends,  of  which  the 
following  account  was  given  in  the  public  press. 

"A  very  pleasant  gathering  of  the  friends  of  the 
chaplain  of  the  Sixteenth  Regiment,  Rev.  Arthur  B. 
Fuller,  took  place  at  his  residence  in  Watertown  on 
Wednesday  evening.  Yesterday  morning  a  commit- 


168  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

tee,  of  whom  Dr.  Samuel  Richardson  was  chairman, 
presented  to  Mr.  Fuller  the  handsome  sum  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  stating  that,  but  for  the 
stringency  of  the  times  affecting  all  classes,  a  much 
larger  sum  could  have  been  easily  raised.  Among 
the  donors  are  members  of  every  denomination  in  Water- 
town,  Rev.  Mr.  Flood,  the  Catholic  priest,  being  among 
the  number. 

"  The  following  brief  but  appropriate  address  was 
made  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee,  Dr.  Richard- 
son:  — 

" '  Respected  and  dear  Friend :  As  you  are  about  to 
leave  us  for  a  new  field  of  action,  your  friends  of  various 
denominations  in  this  community  desire  to  present  you 
with  some  testimonial  of  their  affection  and  high  esteem 

O 

for  you  as  a  minister,  a  citizen,  and  a  man.  I  am  re- 
quested to  present  you  this  purse,  with  their  sincere 
prayers  for  your  safety  and  welfare.  May  you  soon 
return  to  your  beloved  family  and  friends,  and  may  we 
once  more  have  the  privilege  of  grasping  your  hand  in 
welcome  and  gladness  at  the  close  of  this  war,  as  we 
now  with  sadness  press  it  in  parting  with  you  to  take 
part  and  do  your  duty  in  its  stirring  scenes  as  a  patriot 
and  a  Christian.' 

"  A  beautiful  and  well-stored  writing-desk  and  sev- 
eral other  substantial  packages  were  also  presented  Mr. 
Fuller  by  his  friends  in  Boston  and  vicinity." 

Among  the  closing  scenes  at  Watertown,  we  remem- 
ber a  prayer-meeting  in  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 
In  the  desk  sat  the  pastor,  Rev.  Henry  E.  Hempstead, 
afterward  Chaplain  Hempstead,  and  Chaplain  Fuller. 
The  topic  of  prayer  and  remark  was  our  country's 


THE 'GREAT   REBELLION.  169 

crisis.  An  army  officer  present  spoke  of  the  dangers 
he  was  about  to  encounter,  and  of  death  upon  the 
battle-field.  The  two  clergymen  poured  forth  earnest 
patriotic  prayers.  Much  evident  solicitude  for  the 
soldier  was  manifest  in  the  assembly,  seeming  to  la- 
ment in  advance  his  expected  life-sacrifice  in  his  coun- 
try's cause,  as  did  the  Trojans  in  bidding  farewell  to 
Hector  when  he  went  forth  against  Achilles.  Danger 
for  the  clergymen  was  not  thought  of;  yet,  in  the 
issue,  the  army  officer  resigned,  and  returned  home  ; 
the  chaplains  continued  in  their  country's  service,  and 
both  laid  down  life  upon  the  altar  of  patriotic  devotion 
within  a  few  days  of  each  other,  at  Fredericksburg. 
The  one  fell  from  a  hostile  bullet ;  the  other  sacrificed 
his  life  in  taking  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  and 
the  incidental  exposure.  So  little  do  we  know  of  the 
future  ! 


CHAPTER    II. 


FORTKESS  MONROE. 


"  I  confess  to  having  enough  of  the  war  spirit  to  feel  a  pride  in  Bunker  Hill  and 
other  scenes  of  our  Revolutionary  struggle.  War  is  a  terrible  evil ;  but  tyranny  is  a 
greater  5  and,  to  expel  the  latter  poison  from  the  body  politic,  war  is  needful.  After 
all,  what  is  life  but  one  great  battle-field,  on  which  a  most  momentous  war  against 
temptation  and  the  tyranny  of  our  passions  and  appetites  is  waged  by  each  human 
soul  ?  And  what  spirit  has  made  its  way  to  any  true  nobility  of  character,  any  real 
self-government,  without  passing  through  a  field  of  moral  battle,  which  has  been  to  it 
a  Bunker  Hill,  a  Marathon,  or  a  Plateea  ?  And  the  debased  soul,  alas  !  has  known  its 
Waterloo,  from  whose  deadly  conflict  it  came  not  off  victorious  !  "  —  Family  letter 
of  KEV.  A.  B.  FULLER,  written  June  17, 1852. 

"  Though  lodged  within  no  vigorous  frame, 
His  soul  her  daily  tasks  renewed, 
Blithe  as  the  lark  on  sun-gilt  wings 
High  poised.' 

N  the  17th  of  August,  1861,  Chaplain  Fuller 
left  Boston  with  the  Sixteenth  Massachu- 
setts Regiment  for  their  Southern  destina- 
tion. He  writes*  that  on  their  departure 
"  there  was  less  elation,  less  display,  than  usual,  per- 
haps, but  more  of  stern  determination  and  clear  real- 
ization of  the  object  to  be  achieved  and  the  hardships 
to  be  endured  than  has  been  felt  before." 
Respecting  his  regiment  he  says :  — 

*  We  shall  cite  in  the  following  pages,  without  particular  reference,  the 
Chaplain's  private  letters,  and  his  correspondence  published  in  the  Boston 
Journal,  Boston  Traveller,  New  York  Tribune,  Christian  Inquirer,  and  other 
papers. 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  171 

"  The  character  of  the  men  composing  it  is  generally  such 
as  promises  fresh  honors  to  a  county  which  contains  Lex- 
ington and  Bunker  Hill,  Concord  and  Cambridge,  Watertown 
and  other  places  historic  in  our  earliest  struggle  for  freedom. 
The  officers  are  skilled  military  men,  selected  for  capacity, 
and  not  because  of  political  influence. 

"  You  have  doubtless  learned  by  telegraph  of  the  safe 
arrival  of  our  regiment  in  this  city,  but  a  few  particulars  of 
our  journey  and  position  here  may  not  be  unacceptable.  Our 
route  witnessed  one  continued  ovation,  city  and  country  vy- 
ing in  patriotic  demonstrations  and  exhibitions  of  good-will 
toward  those  who  were  on  their  way  to  the  scene  of  peril,  but 
we  believe  also  of  honor  and  of  ultimate  national  triumph. 
On  many  a  hillside,  in  the  evening,  bonfires  blazed,  and  at 
every  way-station  enthusiastic  cheers  rent  the  air,  and  many 
little  gifts  and  leave-takings  of  those  who  to  us  were  entire 
strangers  evidenced  that  in  this  great  cause  the  people  are 
one  in  heart  and  opinion. 

"  At  Fall  River  an  escort  of  a  juvenile  company  of  Zouaves 
and  of  many  citizens  awaited  us,  but  Colonel  Wyman  wisely 
avoided  fatiguing  the  men  by  marching  through  the  streets 
of  that  city.  Indeed,  throughout  our  journey  the  same 
judicious  plan  has  been  pursued  by  our  officers.  We  only 
touched  at  New  York ;  we  did  not  land  from  the  steamers, 
and  no  unnecessary  steps  have  yet  been  taken,  and  no  un- 
necessary display  made.  We  were  compelled  to  journey  on 
the  Sabbath,  owing  to  the  present  exigency,  which  impera- 
tively demands  all  our  available  force  near  the  capital.  This 
fact  caused  us  to  find  in  nearly  every  town  in  New  Jersey,  as 
we  passed  through,  the  people  in  their  best  attire,  and  ready 
to  welcome  us.  It  would  have  pleased  our  friends  at  home 
to  have  seen  the  general  good  order  of  the  men,  and  to  find 
that  they  were  not  unmindful  of  the  fact  that,  though  '  we 
were  marching  on,'  yet  it  was  the  Sabbath  day,  and  '  hymns 


172  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

of  lofty  cheer '  and  true  religious  patriotism  were  alone  in 
order. 

"  Our  greeting  in  Philadelphia,  although  at  midnight,  ex- 
ceeded our  leave-taking  in  Boston.  A  fine  collation  is  always 
given  by  the  most  substantial  citizens  of  this  place  to  each 
regiment  as  it  passes  through  the  '  city  of  brotherly  love,' 
no  matter  what  the  hour,  or  from  which  of  our  loyal  States. 
Our  fine  bras*  band  —  and  there  is  none  better  connected 
with  any  regiment  — '  discoursed  most  eloquent  music,'  fitted 
to  the  day  and  the  occasion. 

"  We  marched  through  Baltimore  yesterday,  the  nineteenth 
of  August,  thinking  of  another  nineteenth,  that  of  April,  when 
another  Massachusetts  regiment  marched  through  also.  We 
were  not  enthusiastically  received  as  a  general  rule,  for  Bal- 
timore is  as  to  its  leading  influence  disloyal  to  the  Union,  and 
hates  to-day  that  '  Star-Spangled  Banner,'  which  still  floats 
from  Fort  McHenry,  and  loves  not  that  whole  country  for 
which  Washington  fought.  Why  not,  then,  be  consistent, 
and  take  down  their  proud  monument  to  the  '  Father  of  his 
Country '  ?  Here,  of  all  places,  might  patriotism  be  expected, 
and  sad  enough  is  it  to  find  it  otherwise.  A  large  part  of  the 
population  yet  remains  true  to  the  old  flag,  and  manifests 
itself  loyal  in  a  noble  manner." 

For  a  few  weeks  the  regiment  was  stationed  at 
Baltimore,  which  at  that  time  had  not  been  wholly 
relieved  from  the  poison  of  the  oligarchs.  The  gov- 
ernment were  still  vainly  endeavoring  to  temper  the 
needful  austerity  of  war  with  the  ill-assorted  mod- 
eration of  peace,  mistaken  by  the  foe  for  timidity, 
weakness,  and  indecision.  The  Chaplain  thus  ex- 
presses the  results  of  his  observation:  — 

"You  can  hardly  imagine  how  much  the  evidences  of  a 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  173 

more  stern  dealing  with  traitors  and  a  more  vigorous  prose- 
cution of  the  war  inspire  the  soldiers  with  fresh  hope  and 
confidence.  Fremont's  proclamation  meets  with  almost  un- 
qualified approval,  especially  from  Union  slaveholders.  It  is 
a  move  in  the  right  direction,  and  would  be  imitated  to  ad- 
vantage in  this  State,  and  in  all  our  semi-loyal  States. 

"  The  presentment  of  treasonable  newspapers  by  grand 
juries,  and  the  suppression  of  others  by  the  government,  is 
especially  to  be  commended.  It  is  these  which  hound  the 
rebels  on  to  their  treasonable  deeds,  and  they  should  be  forced 
to  be  '  dumb  dogs,  which  dare  not  longer  bark.'  But  why 
are  such  tolerated  in  Baltimore  ?  No  less  than  three  such, 
the  South,  the  Republican,  and  the  Exchange,  are  published 
there,  and  are  most  defiant  of  the  government.  They  daily 
incite  to  insurrection,  and  the  consequence  is  that  our  officers 
and  soldiers  are  daily  insulted  there,  and  it  is  done  with  per- 
fect impunity.  One  of  the  soldiers  of  our  regiment  was  fired 
upon  in  broad  daylight  by  a  woman,  before  we  left  that  city, 
while  he  was  pursuing  a  deserter,  and  in  the  discharge  of 
his  duty.  I  have  seen  secession  flags  flying,  and  had  them 
flaunted  before  my  face  while  walking  quietly,  unarmed,  in 
the  streets.  I  have  heard  cheers,  long  and  loud,  for  Jeff 
Davis,  and  groans  for  the  Union.  This  is  always  done  by 
women  and  children,  it  is  true,  for  that  is  the  cowardly, 
sneaking  nature  of  rebellion,  avoiding  risk  of  summary  ven- 
geance from  our  manly  soldiers.  But  ought  these  things 
to  be  allowed?  and  may  not  another  massacre  like  that  of 
the  19th  of  April  ensue  if  these  things  are  not  nipped  in 
the  bud,  and  if  a  traitorous  press  remain  unsilenced? 

"  Our  officers  and  soldiers  did  not  always  bear  contumely 
in  silence,  though  they  could  not  strike  down  their  tormentors 
when  such  were  women  and  children.  Sometimes  they  an- 
swered such  scoffs  with  fitting  words.  'Are  you  a  Massa- 
chusetts soldier  ? '  said  a  woman,  elegantly  dressed,  and  doubt- 


174  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

less  deemed  a  lady  in  Baltimore.  '  I  am,  madam,'  was  the 
courteous  answer  of  the  officer  thus  addressed.*  '  Well, 
thank  God,  my  husband  is  in  the  Southern  army,  ready  to 
kill  such  hirelings  as  you.'  '  Do  you  not  miss  him,  madam  ? ' 
said  the  officer.  '  O  yes,  I  miss  him  a  good  deal.'  '  Very  well, 
madam,  we  are  going  South  in  a  few  days,  and  will  try  to 
find  him  and  bring  him  back  here  with  his  companions.'  You 
ought  to  have  seen  how  angry  she  was !  '  You  are  from  that 
miserable  Boston,  I  suppose,'  she  said, '  where  there  is  nothing 
but  mob  law,  and  they  burned  down  the  Ursuline  Convent,  — 
the  Puritan  bigots  ! '  '  Some  such  thing  did  happen  in  Charles- 
town  many  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  boy,'  said  the  officer, '  at 
least  I  have  heard  so,  and  am  very  sorry  for  it.  But  can  you 
tell  me  what  street  that  is  ? '  '  Pratt  Street,'  was  the  unsus- 
pecting reply.  *  What  happened  there,  madam,  on  the  19/A 
of  April,  this  very  year  ? '  He  got  no  answer  from  the  angry 
secessionist,  but  the  loud  shout  which  went  up  from  the  Union 
bystanders,  who  generally  are  of  the  humbler  orders,  atoned  for 
her  silence.  People  that  live  in  glass  houses  had  bettor  not 
throw  stones.  The  same  officer,  riding  in  a  chaise  with  a 
gentleman  who  showed  secession  proclivities,  but  was  cour- 
teous in  their  demonstration,  was  told  by  the  gentleman 
that  the  horse  which  was  drawing  them  was  called  'Jeff 
Davis,'  in  honor  of  that  distinguished  rebel,  and  asked  if 
he  'did  not  object  to  driving  such  a  horse.'  'O  no,  sir,' 
was  the  instant  reply ;  '  to  drive  Jeff  Davis  is  the  very 
purpose  of  our  coming  South.'  Our  secession  gentleman 
imitated  his  sister  traitor  in  preserving  a  discreet  silence." 

The  religious  object  of  the  Chaplain's  commission 
no  martial  preparations  could  make  him  forget.  He 
had  come  as  a  religious  teacher,  ready  to  practise  what 
he  preached,  and  he  was  impelled  by  his  sense  of  the 

*  The  officer  was  Chaplain  Fuller. 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  175 

especial  importance  of  religion  in  the  terrible  expe- 
riences of  war.     He  writes :  — 

"  Our  encampment  is  hardly  settled  enough  yet  for  definite 
arrangements  to  have  been  fully  carried  out.  After  this  week, 
however,  the  arrangements  are  as  follows :  Sunday  school  at 
nine,  A.  M. ;  attendance  to  be  wholly  voluntary.  Preaching 
every  Sabbath  at  five  o'clock,  P.  M.,  the  old  hour  at  Camp 
Cameron,  and  the  best  hour  of  the  day  for  the  purpose. 
Prayer  and  conference  meeting  (when  practicable)  every 
day  at  about  six  and  seven,  P.  M. ;  attendance  of  course 
voluntary.  These  services  will  be  fully  attended.  Even 
now,  every  night  there  are  quiet  circles  for  prayer  and 
praise. 

"  Besides  these  services,  there  are  Bibles  and  religious 
volumes  to  be  distributed  to  the  men,  and  books  for  singing 
God's  praise.  We  find  the  '  Army  Melodies '  useful  among 
us,  and  were  not  the  writer  one  of  the  editors  of  the  volume, 
he  would  say  much  of  the  necessity  and  usefulness  of  supply- 
ing religious  and  patriotic  music  and  words  to  every  regiment 
and  every  naval  vessel,  in  place  of  the  ribald  songs  so  sadly 
common  hi  the  army  and  on  shipboard.  No  more  refining 
or  religious  instrumentality  than  music  can  be  used." 

That  threadbare  subject,  the  weather,  acquires  an 
original  interest  from  new  circumstances. 

"  This  topic,  so  common  when  people  meet  who  have  not 
much  to  say,  assumes  real  importance  when  '  the  children  of 
Israel  dwell  in  tents,'  and  when  the  weather  exercises  so  much 
influence  over  the  health  and  spirits  of  the  men.  We  have 
been  generally  favored  with  genial  skies,  but  the  rainy 
weather  has  now  set  in,  and  the  last  three  days  have  been 
uncomfortable  in  the  extreme.  Particularly  inconvenient  is 
it  with  reference  to  religious  exercises.  These  are  neces- 
sarily suspended  every  rainy  day,  and  yet  on  no  day  do  the 


176  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

men  so  much  need  the  cheering  and  reviving  influences  of 
social  conference  and  prayer,  and  particularly  of  singing  God's 
praise.  We  have  a  choir  organized,  who  sing  from  the  '  Army 
Melodies,'  and  most  of  the  tents  are  vocal  every  evening  with 
its  patriotic  and  religious  songs." 

As  there  was  no  new  outbreak  in  Baltimore,  and 
its  agitated  elements  gradually  subsided,  the  Chaplain 
found  occasion  to  contemplate  some  of  the  interesting 
features  of  that  locality.  Among  these  was  his  fa- 
vorite resort,  the  last  resting-place. 

"  Close  by  us  is  the  famous  Greenmount  Cemetery,  the 
Mount  Auburn  of  Baltimore.  This  ground,  too,  was  recently 
desecrated  by  the  traitors  of  Baltimore.  Immediately  after 
the  19th  of  April  last,  the  chapel  of  the  cemetery  was  seized 
by  order  of  General  Trimble,  and  used  as  a  storehouse  for 
rebel  guns  and  powder.  Now  Massachusetts  soldiers  walk 
quietly  through  its  shady  paths,  and  think,  not  of  death,  but 
of  the  immortality  of  blessedness  which  awaits  every  loyal 
soldier  who  dies  a  martyr  for  liberty,  and  for  the  Christian 
principles  involved  ha  this  struggle. 

u  And  well  may  a  Massachusetts  soldier  love  to  walk  sol- 
emnly in  these  paths ;  for  hi  yonder  enclosure  lie  the  remains 
of  the  gallant  Major  Kinggold,  who  died  at  Palo  Alto.  His 
only  monument  is  a  stockade  of  Mexican  guns  and  bayonets 
captured  ha  that  conflict.  Colonel  Watson,  who  died  at  Mon- 
terey, sleeps,  as  to  the  mortal  part,  peacefully  near.  But  not 
before  these  soldierly  memoaials  do  we  linger  longest.  In 
yonder  mausoleum  laid  for  days  our  Massachusetts  dead  of 
the  19th  of  April,  1861.  The  soldier  whose  last  words  were, 
'  God  bless  the  Stars  and  Stripes ! '  slept  here  until  Governor 
Andrew's  noble  missive  was  carried  into  effect,  and  their 
bodies,  cared  for  'tenderly,'  were  restored  to  the  Old  Bay 
State,  which  will  ever  cherish  their  memories." 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  177 

He  thus  writes  of  Druid  Hill  Park :  — 

"  These  beautiful  grounds  are  frequently  occupied  by  the 
Federal  forces,  though  at  present  no  regiment  is  within  their 
limits.  The  citizens  of  Baltimore  have  recently  purchased 
this  site,  and  have  made  a  liberal  expenditure  to  beautify  its 
precincts.  No  finer  drive  exists  than  its  roads  afford,  and  no 
better  ground  can  be  found  for  an  encampment,  though  the 
government  is  chary  about  using  it,  in  courteous  deference  to 
the  wishes  of  the  citizens.  On  our  way  thither  we  passed  by 
many  beautiful  residences,  mostly  occupied  by  secessionists, 
for  they  comprise  the  wealthy  men  here.  On  one  residence, 
however,  the  '  Star-Spangled  Banner '  still  proudly  waved, 
and  there  it  has  waved  in  the  breeze  every  day  since  the 
19th  of  April  of  this  year.  All  through  the  reign  of  terror, 
as  the  Union  men  designate  the  ten  days  succeeding  that 
infamous  massacre  of  our  soldiers,  that  flag  floated  in  the  air, 
surrounded  by  secession  emblems." 

He  thus  speaks  of  Fort  McHenry :  — 

"  It  occupies  a  splendid  location  to  command  the  city  and 
suppress  rebellion  within  its  limits.  The  large  shell  mortars 
and  heavy  columbiads  and  other  weapons  of  destruction  are 
kept  constantly  ready  for  service  in  case  of  an  insurrection 
against  the  government,  and  the  destruction  of  Baltimore 
would  in  such  a  case  be  inevitable.  Monumental  Square, 
where  secessionists  mostly  reside,  the  '  club-house,'  where  trea- 
son is  said  to  be  hatched,  Pratt  Street  and  its  bridge  and 
market,  —  these  would  in  such  an  emergency  soon  be  scenes 
of  terrible  carnage  and  vengeance  on  the  enemies  of  our  gov- 
ernment. And  the  star-spangled  banner  -would  wave  over 
smoke  and  flame  from  that  very  fort  where  its  appearance  in 
the  gray,  misty  morning  called  forth  from  the  author,  impris- 
oned in  a  British  ship,  an  immortal  song  of  patriotic  fervor, 

8*  L 


178  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

the  tribute  and  prophecy  of  the  permanence  of  the  old  flag  of 
our  country." 

Death,  too,  whose  painful  volume,  crowded  with  re- 
peated lessons,  was  now  to  be  the  Chaplain's  daily  text- 
book, thus  opens  the  first  chapter  and  teaches  him  to 
moralize  :  — 

"  In  the  afternoon  I  attended  the  funeral  of  an  excellent 
man,  J.  D.  Prentiss,  formerly  of  Medfield,  Massachusetts,  a 
graduate  of  Harvard,  and  for  many  years  President  of  Bal- 
timore College.  He  was  a  firm  Union  man,  and  I  had 
enjoyed  the  hospitalities  of  his  home  for  several  days  of  the 
past  week.  He  attended  our  religious  services  only  the  Sab- 
bath before,  and  in  all  ways  had  testified  his  love  for  old 
Massachusetts  and  her  soldiers  and  their  holy  cause.  He 
had  spoken  to  me  of  the  peril  to  life  in  the  army,  and  now  he 
lay  in  that  beautiful  home  a  mangled  corpse,  killed  by  a  rail- 
road accident.  He  had  so  many  friends  in  Massachusetts, 
and  has  been  so  devoted  a  friend  to  our  soldiers,  that  his 
memory  claims  this  mention.  His  fate  is  an  illustration  of 
the  truth  that  death  is  everywhere,  not  only  on  the  battle- 
field, but  in  our  very  streets ;  and  many  of  those  who  pity  us 
and  fear  for  our  fate  may  themselves  earliest  be  called  home, 
and  by  a  bloody  death.  It  matters  not,  if  we  are  prepared. 
He  always  dies  well  who  has  lived  well,  die  when,  or  where, 
or  how  he  may." 

On  the  1st  of  September  orders  came  for  the  regi- 
ment 

"to  report  at  Fortress  Monroe,  and  without  an  instant's 
hesitation  rations  were  dealt  out,  tents  struck,  baggage  hur- 
ried into  wagons,  and  we  were  soon  on  board  the  Louisiana. 
Our  march  through  Baltimore  to  the  boat  was  very  different 
from  our  entrance  into  that  city.  Secessiondom  was  discour- 


FORTRESS   MONROE.  179 

aged  by  the  Hatteras  Inlet  news,  and  stayed  at  home ;  but 
the  Union  men  and  women  and  children  of  Baltimore  were 
out  in  full  force  and  in  high  spirits.  It  made  one  fancy  him- 
self at  home  in  good  old  Boston  to  hear  such  loud  cheers  for 
the  Union.  Ladies  presented  choice  bouquets  to  the  officers 
and  soldiers  as  they  passed,  and  a  pafriotic  enthusiasm  was 
manifested,  which,  if  followed  by  patriotic  deeds,  will  yet 
redeem  the  fair  -fame  of  Baltimore." 

On  his  brief  voyage  he  writes  :  — 

"I  am  surrounded  by  naval  and  military  men  who  were 
in  that  glorious  conflict.  Trophies  of  the  splendid  triumph 
are  freely  exhibited,  consisting  of  swords,  flags,  surgical 
instruments,  &c.  Our  boys  of  the  '  Sixteenth '  are  cheering 
pretty  loudly  on  deck,  and  in  one  part  of  the  steamer  the 
brass  band  are  discoursing  their  liveliest  strains.  You  would 
think  our  soldiers  on  board  had  all  turned  Methodists  to  judge 
by  the  shoutings ;  the  companies  from  Lowell,  especially  the 
'  Butler  Rifles/  largely  Catholics,  were  heartily  joining  in  the 
chorus  of '  Glory  Hallelujah,  we  are  marching  on.' "  * 

The  regiment  were  destined  to  stay  several  months 
in  the  fortress,  and  here  the  Chaplain  was  enabled  to 
prosecute  his  labors  with  vigor.  The  following  is  a 
sketch  of  the  religious  work. 

"  I  have  among  my  auditors,  every  Sabbath,  a  large  num- 
ber of  Roman  Catholics,  and  also  members  of  every  Protes- 
tant sect.  It  requires  no  forbearance  on  my  part  to  preach 
on  those  great  themes  only,  and  in  that  spirit  only  in  which 
all  the  disciples  of  our  common  Master  can  take  an  interest, 
and  feel  that  their  conscientious  opinions  are  respected. 

*  Nothing  could  be  more  expressive  of  the  enthusiastic  determination  of 
the  North  to  maintain  its  inherited  free  institutions,  than  the  sudden  and 
universal  popularity  of  this  anonymous  song. 


180  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Shame  on  any  citizen,  in  these  times,  who  has  not  a  mind 
too  patriotic  for  partisan  strife  !  shame  on  any  nominal  Chris- 
tian who  has  not  a  heart  too  large  for  sectarian  controversy  ! 
I  believe  to-day  is  not  the  day  for  any  discussion,  but  how 
best  we  can  save  our  country  and  save  souls ;  that  among 
citizens  there  are  only  two  classes,  —  patriots  and  traitors ; 
among  believers,  only  two  classes  also,  —  those  who  love  God 
and  Christ  and  man,  and  those  who  love  them  not.  This 
love  of  the  Father  and  his  Son  and  our  brother  man,  —  this 
is  the  '  threefold  cord  which  cannot  be  broken ' ;  for  it  is  vital 
religion,  —  the  bond  which  connects  the  soul  of  man  to  his 
God,  and  with  all  that  is  goodly  or  may  be  made  such. 

"  Every  Sabbath,  I  now  preach  in  the  morning  at  the  Hy- 
geia  Hospital,  just  outside  the  fortress,  where  I  have  been 
appointed  as  chaplain  pro  tern. ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  in  the 
encampment  of  my  own  regiment,  whose  service  I  never  make 
subordinate  to  any  other  duty.  The  attendance  by  the  regi- 
ment is  nearly,  if  not  quite  universal,  and  a  more  quiet,  decorous 
congregation  I  would  not  ask.  The  men  are  mustered  into 
their  respective  companies,  and,  led  by  their  officers,  march 
to  the  parade-ground,  where  they  form  a  hollow  square.  In 
the  centre  a  rude  platform  is  erected,  on  which  the  chaplain 
stands.  The  officers  and  soldiers  are  generally  furnished,  by 
the  liberality  of  the  Unitarian  Association,  with  the  Army 
Melodies,  from  which  they  sing.  These  simple  and  cheerful 
strains  are  better  adapted  to  the  soldier  than  any  more  formal 
tunes.  They  evidently  enjoy  them ;  and  from  every  tent, 
at  night,  you  will  hear  the  soldiers  singing  'Homeward 
Bound,'  'Joyfully,'  'Freedom's  Era,'  'The  Star-Spangled 
Banner,'  'We  are  Marching  On,'  etc.  Nothing  is  more 
refining  and  elevating,  nothing  more  religious  in  its  tendency, 
than  good  music,  when  accompanying  patriotic  or  devout 
words;  at  least,  this  has  been  my  experience  among  the 
soldiers  here  and  at  the  hospital,  and  in  other  regiments  with 
whom  it  has  been  my  fortune  to  come  in  contact. 


FORTEESS  MONROE.  181 

"But  the  instrumentality  which  at  present  seems  most 
potent  for  good,  is  the  social  conference  and  prayer  meeting. 
This  is  held  in  front  of  my  tent  every  evening,  and  is  as  or- 
derly, and  more  numerously  attended  than  any  vestry-meeting 
in  New  England. 

"  We  conduct  it  rather  differently  from  any  other  with  which 
I  am  acquainted.  The  first  half-hour  is  devoted  to  hearing 
from  the  chaplain  an  account  of  what  is  going  on  in  the  great 
world  from  which  we  are  comparatively  isolated.  Few  sol- 
diers can  afford  to  take  any  daily  papers,  or  buy  those  which 
occasionally  are  brought  to  our  camp.  It  seems  to  me  a  part 
of  my  duty  to  inform  them  of  any  items  which  come  to  my 
knowledge,  whether  of  a  national  or  literary  nature.  Above 
all,  any  news  from  dear  old  Massachusetts,  and  best-beloved 
Middlesex  County,  where  our  homes  are,  is  welcome  indeed. 
Then  we  spend  about  ten  minutes  in  conversation  as  to 
topics  upon  which  the  chaplain  can  give  counsel,  —  how  the 
soldier  can  safely  transmit  money  to  wife  or  mother,  how 
break  himself  of  a  habit  of  profanity,  or  any  one  of  a  hun- 
dred questions  he  desires  to  ask.  Perhaps  he  wants  to  tell, 
himself,  some  news  from  the  quiet  town  from  whence  he  and 
his  company  come.  After  these  few  minutes'  talk  are  over, 
there  is  a  decorous  silence,  broken  at  last  by  the  voice  of 
prayer ;  and  then  an  hour  is  spent  in  prayer  and  conference, 
and  in  frequent  singing  of  familiar  hymns  from  the  Melodies. 
Both  officers  and  soldiers  participate  in  these  meetings, 
several  of  the  captains  and  lieutenants  being  members  of 
churches." 

The  discomfort  at  first  experienced  from  lack  of  a 
place  of  worship  was  soon  obviated.  The  Chaplain 
writes  :  — 

"  Our  friends  in  Boston  have  just  sent  to  me  a  beautiful 
chapel-tent  for  religious  services.  It  is  to  be  dedicated  next 


182  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Sunday,  and  the  various  regimental  and  naval  chaplains  in 
this  vicinity  are  to  take  part  in  the  services.  The  soldiers 
are  preparing  wreaths  of  the  holly,  with  its  ruby  berries,  and 
live-oak,  with  its  brilliant  leaf  and  delicate  acorns.  Bouquets 
of  tea-roses,  and  other  flowers  still  blooming  here  in  the  open 
air,  will  also  grace  the  tent  on  this  occasion.  I  have  felt  that, 
being  set  apart  for  sacred  uses,  it  should  be  consecrated  by  a 
regular  dedication  service.  I  assure  you  that  no  congrega- 
tion ever  felt  more  grateful  than  my  army  congregation,  that 
they  have  now  a  place  of  shelter  from  rain  or  heat  or  cold, 
or  the  unwholesome  evening  air.  We  shall  not  usually  need 
it  for  day-services  while  the  weather  is  as  pleasant  as  now ; 
but  it  will  grow  colder ;  the  chilly  sea- winds  will  soon  sweep 
over  this  exposed  Point  Comfort,  and  our  evening  prayer- 
meetings  were  already  impracticable  till  this  tent  came." 

This  chapel-tent,  which  the  Chaplain,  in  a  home 
letter,  calls  "  his  pride  and  his  joy,"  was  the  first 
Lord's  tabernacle  pitched  among  the  army  tents  dur- 
ing the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and  it  was  suitably  con- 
secrated with  exercises  which  the  Chaplain  thus  de- 
scribes :  — 

"Yesterday  was  a  noteworthy  day  with  the  Sixteenth 
Massachusetts  Regiment,  for  on  it  we  dedicated  our  beau- 
tiful tabernacle  tent.  This  tent  was  presented  to  us  by 
various  patriotic  and  benevolent  citizens  of  Boston,  who 
desire  that  religious  services  may  not  necessarily  be  sus- 
pended during  the  sultry  heat  of  summer,  or  during  the  fall 
of  the  rain,  so  copious  in  Virginia,  and  that  our  evening 
prayer  and  temperance  meetings  may  not  necessarily  be  held 
in  the  open  air.  The  subscriptions  were  secured  by  a  most 
excellent  lady,  and  she  receives  the  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments of  our  entire  regiment.  The  day  of  dedication  was 
also  Forefathers'  Day  (Dec.  22),  which  was  very  appropriate 


FOKTRESS  MONROE.  183 

for  a  Massachusetts  regiment,  having  their  tabernacle  in  the 
wilderness,  as  did  their  fathers.  The  presence  of  Hon.  Charles 
R.  Train,  Representative  in  Congress  from  that  district  of  our 
State  from  which  the  entire  regiment  comes,  was  most  oppor- 
tune. As  his  stay  could  only  be  for  a  few  hours,  and  the 
dedication  of  an  army  tent  is  a  patriotic  as  well  as  religious 
occasion,  our  chaplain  cordially  invited  him  to  make  one  of 
the  addresses,  which  he  did  in  a  most  eloquent  and  accept- 
able manner,  and  in  a  spirit  every  way  appropriate  to  the 
solemn  service. 

"  Both  army  and  navy  chaplains  participated  in  the  exer- 
cises. The  chaplains  were  representatives  of  nearly  every 
sect,  including  Roman  Catholic,  but  there  was  entire  har- 
mony, and  a  sweet  blending  of  devout  sentiment  and  Chris- 
tian, patriotic  utterance.  Chaplains  from  North  and  South 
East  and  West,  were  there,  and  from  sea  and  shore,  yet  no 
discordant  note  was  uttered.  The  tabernacle  tent  was 
trimmed  with  holly  and  live-oak  wreaths  and  crosses,  made 
by  the  soldiers  with  a  taste  which  would  have  surprised  our 
female  friends.  The  ladies  of  the  Hygeia  Hospital,  who  were 
present,  contributed  a  beautiful  cross  of  mingled  evergreen 
and  flowers.  Our  regimental  band  played  the  '  Star-Spangled 
Banner '  admirably,  and  the  regimental  choir  sang  the  hymns 
written  for  the  occasion  in  a  manner  which  elicited,  as  it 
deserved,  much  praise.  Rev.  Mr.  Fuller's  dedication  dis- 
course was  founded  on  the  text  in  Isaiah  iv.  6,  —  'And 
there  shall  be  a  tabernacle,  for  a  shadow  in  the  daytime 
from  the  heat,  and  for  a  place  of  refuge  and  for  a  covert 
from  storm  and  rain.'"* 

*  The  hymns  for  the  dedication  are  in  a  vein  suited  to  the  occasion.  The 
first  is  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  0.  Evarts,  Surgeon  of  the  Twentieth  Indiana 
Regiment. 

"  From  home  and  kindred  far  away, 
Upon  this  soil  we  bend  the  knee, 
And,  from  the  midst  of  war's  array, 
Thy  children  still,  —  we  look  to  Thee ! 


184  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

The  house  of  worship  having  been  obtained,  an 
army  church  was  organized. 

"  An  Army  Christian  Association  has  been  formed  in  the 
Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment,  at  Camp  Hamilton,  near 
the  fortress,  which  promises  most  beneficent  results.  It  sup- 
plies the  place  of  our  parish  and  church  organizations  at 
home,  and  gives  the  chaplain  of  the  regiment  some  reliable 
coadjutors  in  his  religious  duties.  The  members  of  churches 
scattered  throughout  a  regiment  find  some  nucleus  about 
which  they  can  rally,  and  thus  become  identified  as  Christian 
disciples.  Soldiers  also  longing  to  break  from  the  thraldom 
of  sin,  and  feeling  as  never  before  the  need  of  being  Chris- 
tians, find  here  a  home  and  sympathy  and  loving  watch-care. 
I  look  upon  it  as  the  most  important  movement  of  a  moral 
and  religious  nature  yet  inaugurated  in  the  regiment.  It 
receives  not  only  professing  Christians  into  its  fold,  but 
all  who  desire  to  be  guided  by  Christian  principles;  nor  is 

"  No  love  of  self,  no  lust  of  power, 

Nor  greed  of  gold,  hath  brought  us  here ; 
But,  in  thine  own  good  time  and  hour, 
We  come  to  see  thy  light  appear. 

"  Let '  use,'  not '  fame,'  inspire  our  arms, 

And  our  first  love  be  love  for  Thee ! 
That  Freedom,  with  her  heavenly  charms, 
May  make  us,  also,  truly  free ! 

"  And  when,  0  Father,  over  all ! 

Nor  in  this  tent,  —  nor  in  this  field,  — 
In  life's  great  battle  we  shall  fall, 
0  bear  us  off  upon  thy  shield ! " 

The  following  was  also  written  for  the  occasion :  — 

"  To  Christians  in  New  England  homes, 
Where  sons  of  pilgrims  love  to  dwell, 
Once  more  the  ancient  summons  comes, 
'  Up  to  your  tents,  0  Israel ! ' 

"  We  come,  but  trust  not  princes,  Lord, 
Nor  arm  of  flesh,  nor  human  skill ; 


FORTRESS   MONROE.  185 

it  restricted  in  membership  to  any  sect  or  to  Protestants, 
but  welcomes  all  who  desire  to  be  guided  by  duty  and 
acknowledge  fealty  to  the  law  of  God.  It  may  lead  to  a 
church  organization  ultimately;  but  if  so,  its  basis  must  be 
equally  simple  and  truly  liberal.  This  is  no  place  for  the 
building  up  of  any  sect  or  combination  of  sects,  but  for  the 
upbuilding  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Redeemer  hi  the  hearts  of 
all  who  desire  to  be  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ  while  soldiers  in 
the  American  army." 

Nor  was  this  church  inactive.    The  Chaplain  writes : — 

"  On  Tuesday  evening  we  have  a  meeting  for  prayer  and 
counsel.  It  is  conducted  just  like  our  church  and  class 
meetings  at  home,  only,  thank  God!  we  know  no  name  but 
the  all-prevailing  one  of  Jesus,  the  divine  and  ever-blessed 
Redeemer.  It  is  under  the  special  care  of  a  most  excellent 
soldier,  J.  A.  Smith,  who  is  a  local  Methodist  preacher,  and 
untiring  in  his  religious  efforts  here. 

With  faith  we  lean  upon  thy  word, 
The  counsels  of  thy  holy  will ! 

"  For  thy  pavilion,  Lord  of  hosts ! 

We  pitch  the  chief  tent  of  the  field; 
Thy  leadership  the  army  boasts, 
And  trusts  thee  more  than  sword  or  shield ! 

"  Here,  in  thy  temple,  still  thou  art, 

Where  voices  in  devotion  rise, 

Hymned  with  the  melody  of  heart, 

To  own  and1  bless  the  sacrifice ! 

"  Throughout  the  camp  may  earnest  heed 

To  truth,  here  uttered,  be  bestowed ! 
For  none  so  much  as  soldiers  need 
To  lean  upon  the  arm  of  God ! 

"  '  How  amiable,  Lord  of  hosts, 

Thy  tabernacle ! '  shall  exclaim 
The  soul  that  in  salvation  boasts, 
Adoring  here  God's  holy  name !  " 


186  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"The  chaplain  finds  in  these  brethren  noble  coadjutors, 
and  desires  they  should  have  full  and  ample  credit  for  their 
aid.  They  ask  no  such  praise,  yet  they  most  thoroughly  de- 
serve it.  But  for  their  hearty  and  earnest  co-operation  little 
could  have  been  accomplished  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
the  soldiery.  This  Tuesday  evening  meeting  is  especially 
valuable  to  strengthen  the  hearts  of  Christians  and  prevent 
their  becoming  weary  in  well-doing,  or  being  tempted  to  de- 
sert the  ranks  of  the  army  of  the  living  God,  and  enlisting 
in  the  service  of  sin,  whose  bitter,  hard-earned  wages  are 
spiritual  death.  Away  from  home  and  home  influence,  that 
man  is  arrogant  indeed  who  believes  he  stands  so  firm  that 
he  is  in  no  danger  of  falling  if  he  neglect  to  seek  loving,  fra- 
ternal watch-care,  and  Christian  sympathy." 

The  tabernacle  -worship  was  not  without  musical  aid. 
The  Chaplain  says :  — 

"  A  choir  has  been  formed  in  the  regiment,  composed  of 
officers  and  soldiers,  for  conducting  the  musical  services  of 
the  sanctuary  on  the  Sabbath,  and  at  our  other  meetings.  It 
is  duly  organized  by  the  choice  of  chorister  and  organist  and 
the  assignment  of  the  regular  parts  of  music.  I  say  organist, 
for  we  have  at  present  a  very  sweet-toned  melodeon,  which 
formerly  belonged  to  a  secessionist  young  lady  at  the  Hamp- 
ton Female  Seminary,  and  has  been  kindly  loaned  us  for  a 
few  weeks  by  the  military  authorities." 

The  Chaplain  congratulates  the  Old  Dominion  upon 
the  introduction  of  the  New  England  system  of  free 
schools. 

"The  American  army,  especially  the  Massachusetts  sol- 
diery, are  fast  transplanting  Northern  ideas  and  New  Eng- 
land institutions  to  the  sacred  soil  of  Virginia.  They  will 
flourish  well  here,  we  doubt  not,  unless  overshadowed  by  the 
Upas-tree  of  slavery,  beneath  whose  poisonous  shadow  every 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  187 

good  and  Christian  plant  sickens,  and  ultimately  must  die, 
except  the  axe  be  laid  at  the  root  of  that  tree,  and  it  '  be 
hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  fire.'  This  week  we  commenced 
a  school  in  the  chapel-tent  of  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts 
Regiment,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  chaplain  of  the 
regiment,  assisted  by  five  competent  teachers  selected  by  him 
from  among  the  non-commissioned  officers  and  private  soldiers. 
As  its  tuition  is  absolutely  free  to  all  who  attend  it,  it  may 
certainly  be  denominated  a  free  school,  and,  so  far  as  the 
writer  knows,  is  the  first  entirely  free  school  in  Virginia,  with 
the  exception  of  those  established  for  the  contrabands  here. 
God  grant  that  this  New  England  plant  may  take  root  and 
thrive  ! 

"  We  have  scholars  in  all  the  primary  branches,  —  in  writ- 
ing, —  in  fine,  just  the  same  branches  are  taught  as  in  the 
common  district  schools  of  New  England." 

The  Chaplain  also  organized  a  Soldiers'  Teachers' 
Association,  whose  objects  are  thus  set  forth  :  — 

"  The  teachers  who  have  in  charge  the  regimental  school 
feel  the  need  of  unity  of  plan  and  counsel,  and  to  compare 
and  agree  upon  methods  of  instruction  together.  They, 
therefore,  are  to  hold  meetings  every  Friday  evening  for 
these  purposes,  at  the  tent  or  '  log-cabin '  of  the  chaplain.  It 
is  my  intention,  in  some  future  letter,  to  give  the  names  of 
those  non-commissioned  officers  and  private  soldiers,  who  so 
nobly  devote  themselves  to  instructing  their  fellow-soldiers, 
with  no  reward  but  the  pleasure  of  doing  good.  Lest  it  should 
be  thought  strange  that  so  many  could  be  found  in  a  Massa- 
chusetts regiment  who  need  primary-school  instruction,  it 
ought  to  be  mentioned  that  all,  or  nearly  all,  the  scholars 
are  of  foreign  parentage,  and  have  not  had  early  advantages, 
through  no  fault  of  their  own. 

"  They  are  earnest  for  knowledge,  and  though  a  holiday  was 


188  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

given  yesterday,  because  of  the  illness  of  the  chaplain,  and  no 
school  is  regularly  held  on  Saturday,  the  men  declined  the 
holiday,  and  the  school  was  continued  both  yesterday  and 
on  Saturday,  by  the  assistant  teachers,  at  the  urgent  request 
of  the  men.  There  has  not  yet  been  a  single  instance  of 
insubordination  or  disrespectful  word  or  look  on  the  part 
of  these  earnest  scholars,  who,  though  uncultured,  desire 
strongly  improvement,  and  are  deeply  grateful  for  the 
opportunity  afforded  them.  God  bless  them  and  their 
noble  soldier-teachers!" 

The  true  New-Englander,  though  duty  may  call 
him  to  don  the  martial  garb  and  repair  to  the  tented 
field,  yetXloes  not  leave  his  religion  behind  him,  and 
cherishes  still  the  emblems  of  its  continued  presence 
and  power.  The  hallowed  chime  of  the  home  Sabbath 
bells  cannot  indeed  be  heard,  but  the  sacred  day  is  re- 
membered. The  Chaplain  thus  alludes  to  its  observ- 
ance :  — 

"  Yesterday  was  even  more  than  usually  a  hard-working  day 
with  me.  The  idea  of  rest  for  the  clergy  on  the  Sabbath  is 
certainly  obsolete.  I  held  two  services  with  my  own  regi- 
ment in  their  chapel-tent,  and  then,  by  request  of  the  First 
Delaware  Regiment,  preached  in  their  encampment  to  a 
kind  and  attentive  audience.  It  seemed  a  little  singular  to 
me  to  be  invited  to  preach  to  a  congregation  all  of  them  from 
a  slaveholding  State,  and  many  of  them  slaveholders,  and 
none  of  them  Unitarians.  It  certainly  is  not  because  my 
views  of  State  policy  or  Christian  truth  are  unknown  here, 
though  I  am  no  partisan  or  sectarian  anywhere.  The  chap- 
lain of  this  regiment,  an  Old-School  Presbyterian,  is  now 
absent ;  and  I  understand  it  was  at  his  suggestion  the  invita- 
tion was  given  me.  I  enjoyed  much  the  occasion.  On  my 
way  thither,  I  was  requested  to  visit  a  dying  soldier  in  the 


FORTKESS  MONKOE.  189 

hospital  of  the  Ninety-ninth  New  York  Regiment  (Naval 
Brigade).  It  was  a  sad,  sad  sight,  —  that  young  man  dying 
far  away  from  home  !  Yet  the  kind  attentions  of  every  sol- 
dier present,  and  their  sympathy  with  the  sufferer,  must 
have  soothed  him,  and  also  his  parents,  could  they  know 
of  it,  when  tidings  reach  them  that  their  son's  last  battle  is 
fought." 

The  Pilgrim  days  of  Fast  and  Thanksgiving  were 
also  duly  honored.  Of  the  former  the  Chaplain 
writes  :  — 

"  This  was  solemnly  observed  in  our  regiment.  Indeed, 
the  day  seemed  more  like  Sabbath  than  almost  .any  since 
we  left  home.  At  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  discourse  was 
preached  to  the  attentive  congregation  of  soldiery  by  the  chap- 
lain of  the  regiment.  His  text  was  Isaiah  Iviii.  5,  6,  and  he 
dealt  frankly  with  sins  individual  and  national,  pointing  out 
the  only  remedy  in  forsaking  as  well  as  repenting  of  them. 
God  will  judge  our  nation  till  we  do  righteousness  and  '  break 
every  yoke  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free.'  This  is  the  part 
he  requires  at  our  hands.  But  we  must  be  patient  and  bide 
his  tune,  assured  that  it  will  come." 

Thanksgiving,  too,  was  gratefully  observed,  though 
a  shadow  rested  on  the  feast.  The  Chaplain  writes :  — 

"  A  few  weeks  since,  I  recollect  hearing  a  person  of  some- 
what despondent  turn  of  mind  remarking  that  'governors 
must  have  hard  work  writing  their  proclamations  for  Thanks- 
giving this  year,'  as  our  country  had  met  with  little  else  than 
reverses,  and  these  must  cause  suffering  in  every  loyal  State, 
while  Massachusetts  particularly  had  been  called  to  mourn 
many  of  her  most  loyal  and  brave  officers  and  soldiers,  either 
perishing  on  the  battle-field  or  pining  in  rebel  prisons.  Then 
came  Governor  Andrew's  proclamation,  answering  bravely 


190  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

all  this  sceptical  and  ungrateful  feeling,  which  existed  in  more 
hearts  than  one.  I  think  it  the  best  Thanksgiving  proclama- 
tion I  ever  read,  —  so  noble,  so  heroic,  so  pre-eminently 
Christian.  And  yet  that  proclamation  was  written  while 
we  were  still  smarting  beneath  defeat,  and  Massachusetts 
herself  bleeding  at  every  pore  as  a  result  of  the  repulse 
at  Ball's  Bluff.  But  now  the  scene  has  changed.  The 
winter  of  our  discontent  has  become  glorious  summer 
again,  and  the  most  short-sighted  of  mortals  can  recognize 
the  loving  hand  of  God  stretched  forth  to  save  this  Israel. 
Truly  we  see  now  causes  for  devout,  joyous,  yet  solemn 
thanksgiving.  And  we  Massachusetts  soldiers  are  to  ob- 
serve our  State  Thanksgiving  also.  Yesterday  the  chap- 
lain read  at  divine  service  the  Governor's  proclamation,  and 
announced  that  he  should  hold  services  next  Thursday 
morning,  and  preach  a  sermon  appropriate  to  the  occasion, 
in  accordance  with  regular  Massachusetts  usage. 

"  And  yet  our  friends  must  not  blame  us  if  our  Thanks- 
giving has  its  cloud  as  well  as  sunshine,  and  we  cannot  be 
merry  as  in  bygone  days.  Perhaps  this  will  be  more  in 
unison  with  the  purpose  of  the  day  than  has  been  the  former 
method  of  its  observance  by  many  of  us.  We  are  away  from 
home,  and  we  shall  feel  the  fact  more  on  that  day  than  any 
other  of  the  whole  year.  The  sweet  voices  which  have  been 
the  music  of  our  dwellings  will  not  fill  our  tents  and  our 
hearts  with  melody ;  the  smiles  of  loving  wives  and  children, 
which  have  been  our  sunshine,  will  not  gleam  on  our  path- 
way. Yes,  we  shall  have  sad  as  well  as  joyful  hours  here 
next  Thursday,  and  beneath  the  rose  of  happiness  will  be  the 
wounding  thorn  of  pain.  And  will  they  not  miss  us  at  home, 
too  ?  O,  how  many  vacant  chairs  in  the  domestic  circles ! 
It  is  not  because  we  do  not  love  our  homes  and  the  dear 
inmates,  that  we  are  absent,  but  because  we  do  love  them 
BO  strongly  as  to  be  willing  to  peril  life  in  their  defence. 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  191 

And  then,  too,  we  shall  think  of  our  many  brave  soldier- 
brothers  who  have  offered  life  upon  their  country's  altar,  and 
of  Massachusetts  homes,  O  so  many !  where  the  places  re- 
cently vacated  will  never  be  filled  again  by  the  noble  men 
who  once  occupied  them.  Ah,  well!  our  harp  of  Thanks- 
giving will  have  its  chords  of  solemn  and  sad  as  well  as 
of  joyous  strain,  and  our  day  of  rejoicing  may  know  not 
only  the  sunshine  of  smiles,  but  a  few  rain-drops  of  tears  in 
private,  which  we  hope  are  not  unmanly.  Yet  God  bids  us 
be  glad,  and  truly  has  he  given  us  rich  and  abundant  cause 
for  gratitude.  We  may  soon  meet  again  those  friends  who 
are  in  our  earthly  homes ;  and  those  brave  brothers  who  have 
died  so  gloriously  for  their  country,  we,  if  faithful,  shall  surely 
meet  them  in  the  home  which  is  heavenly,  and  on  that  day 
whose  thanksgiving  shall  be  eternal." 

In  his  religious  labors  the  Chaplain  fully  appreciated 
the  aid  of  the  Bible  and  Tract.  To  the  American 
Bible  Society  he  writes :  — 

"  The  liberal  provision  made  by  your  society  for  the  sup- 
ply of  religious  reading  to  the  regiment  of  which  I  am  in 
charge  as  chaplain  entitles  you  to  some  account  of  the  dis- 
tribution of  these  '  leaves  for  the  healing  of  the  nations ' ; 
and  certainly  most  of  the  leaves  of  your  books  do  grow  on 
1  the  Tree  of  Life/  judging  by  those  which  I  have  received 
from  your  depository.  I  am  not  of  the  same  denomination 
with  yourself,  as  you  are  aware,  being  a  clergyman  of  the 
Unitarian  household  of  faith ;  but  I  most  cheerfully  bid 
'  God  speed'  to  your  society  in  its  holy  work. 

"  Is  it  not  one  blessed  result  of  this  present  strife  for  free- 
dom and  righteousness,  that  different  religious  sects  can  thus 
co-operate  together  hi  the  warfare  against  sin,  as  divisions  in 
the  army  of  the  living  God,  just  as  different  regiments  in  the 
army  of  our  country,  can  strive  side  by  side  against  treason 
and  rebellion  ? 


192  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  Our  Catholic  soldiers  receive  and  read  the  Bible  most 
cheerfully,  as  a  general  rule.  I  do  not  seek  to  proselyte 
them,  thinking  it  would  be  wrong  in  the  position  I  occupy, 
but  I  do  endeavor  to  aid  them  in  the  religious  inquiries 
which  naturally  arise  in  their  minds,  and  in  that  work 
'the  word  of  God  is  quick  and  powerful.' 

"  I  thank  God,  too,  that  your  society  does  not  blink  the  great 
question  of  the  inalienable  rights  of  man.  God  bless  all  who 
'  remember  those  who  are  in  bonds  as  bound  with  them,'  and 
may  He  '  who  maketh  the  wrath  of  the  heathen  to  praise  him,' 
bring  out  of  this  fearful  but  holy  strife  that  noble  era  when 
'  the  sun  shall  not  rise  on  a  master  or  set  on  a  slave.' " 

Again  lie  says  :  — 

"  Whatever  new  inventions  there  may  be  of  warlike  weap- 
ons and  implements  offensive  and  defensive,  the  Old  Bay 
State  believes  that  the  shield  of  faith  and  helmet  of  salvation 
and  breastplate  of  righteousness  can  never  be  supplanted,  and 
that  no  man  is  thoroughly  furnished  for  our  country's  defence 
without  these  and  the  Spirit's  sword. 

"  Company  K  of  my  regiment  were  presented  each  man 
with  a  Bible  by  the  Methodist  Church  in  "Watertown,  Massa- 
chusetts, before  leaving  home,  and  though  many  were  Catho- 
lics, yet  no  man  refused  the  gift.  The  Massachusetts  Bible 
Society  have  donated  about  five  hundred  Bibles  and  Testa- 
ments in  addition,  all  of  which  bear  the  imprint  of  the  Amer- 
ican Bible  Society.  They  have  all  been  called  for,  and,  with 
those  given  as  parting  gifts  by  wives  and  mothers,  there  can 
be  but  few  in  this  regiment  not  now  supplied,  and  I  know 
many,  very  many,  would  on  a  march  part  with  every  other 
book,  or  even  much  clothing,  sooner  than  leave  behind  their 
Bible.  If  the  knapsack  be  too  full  to  hold  it,  why  then  the 
owner  would  wear  it  in  his  bosom  to  shield  in  the  day  of 
battle  the  heart  its  divine  truths  had  first  purified. 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  193 

"  In  two  of  our  companies,  probably  the  majority  are  pro- 
fessing Christians,  and  are  here  as  actively  engaged,  as  the 
rules  of  camp  life  will  permit,  in  organizing  Sabbath  schools 
among  the  contrabands  and  poor  whites  in  this  region." 

Nor  was  that  cause  forgotten  which  not  only  results 
from,  but  clears  the  way  for,  true  religion,  and  which 
the  Chaplain  had  loved  from  childhood,  —  temperance. 
We  have  the  following  account  of  it. 

"  We  celebrated  the  close  of  the  year  1861  by  forming  in 
the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment  a  Division  of  the  Sons 
of  Temperance.  At  an  early  hour  the  new  chapel-tent  of 
the  regiment  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  soldiers  eager  to 
listen  to  an  exposition  of  the  principles  of  the  organization, 
and  to  unite  in  the  movement,  if  it  commended  itself  to 
their  judgment.  Over  one  hundred  officers  and  soldiers  were 
proposed  for  initiation.  Authority  had  been  received  by  the 
chaplain  from  the  Grand  Division  of  Massachusetts  to  or- 
ganize this  Division,  which  is  to  embrace  not  only  soldiers  of 
this  regiment,  but  Massachusetts  men  connected  with  other 
regiments  at  or  near  Camp  Hamilton,  or  with  the  naval  ves- 
sels lying  off  the  fortress.  The  per  capita  tax  on  divisions 
connected  with  the  army  has  been  kindly  remitted  by  the 
Grand  Division.  Great  need  is  felt  of  regalia  for  officers 
and  members  of  these  divisions.*  The  Grand  Division 
have  permitted  their  operations  as  army  divisions  without 
this  paraphernalia,  but  none  more  than  soldiers,  accustomed 
to  uniforms,  would  so  much  appreciate  and  value  regalia, 
and  yet,  away  from  home  and  with  scanty  means,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  them  to  procure  them.  The  temperance 
movement  among  soldiers  deserves  the  encouragement,  not 
only  of  professed  temperance  men,  but  of  all  who  have  at 
heart  the  moral  welfare  or  wholesome  discipline  of  the 

*  These  were  soon  afterwards  generously  furnished  by  the  home  organ- 
izations. 

9  M 


194  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

army.  The  organization  in  this  regiment  is  not  intended 
to  supersede  the  old-fashioned  total-abstinence  society  which 
has  been  already  organized,  and  is  efficiently  working,  but 
to  aid  its  movements.  Public  meetings  for  addresses,  &c., 
will  continue  to  be  held,  and  in  the  division  the  members 
will  be  encouraged  to  literary  efforts,  and  the  exercises 
will  be  diversified  with  recitations,  essays,  declamations, 
and  discussions  which  would  be  impracticable  in  a  general 
meeting,  but  will  be  of  great  intellectual  and  moral  value 
to  the  soldiers.  We  need  some  wholesome  recreation  and 
intellectual  and  moral  stimulus  in  the  army,  deprived  as 
we  are  of  those  enjoyed  at  home." 

The  Chaplain  had  some  trials  connected  with  his 
army  work,  one  of  which  had  to  do  with  this  very  sub- 
ject of  temperance.  He  was  a  staff  officer,  and  his 
comrades,  as  also  other  officers  he  met,  regarded  the  cup 
as  a  pledge  of  good-will,  and  the  rejection  of  the  social 
glass  as  an  indication  of  coldness  or  dislike.  Besides, 
such  of  them  as  were  without  religion  were  especially 
pleased  to  see  a  chaplain  disregard  those  rules  of  self- 
denial  which  might  have  been  at  home  a  necessity  of 
the  profession.  A  complimentary  dinner,  given  to  the 
Colonel,  was  the  occasion  of  a  trial  of  the  Chaplain's 
temperance  principles.  As  the  pledges  were  drunk, 
each  officer  in  turn,  and  all  in  chorus,  in  vain  urged 
the  Chaplain  not  to  refuse  the  social  proof  of  good- 
will. At  length,  however,  when  the  affair  was  be- 
coming unpleasant  to  all  parties,  the  Colonel  rapped 
on  the  table,  and  requested  three  cheers  for  the  Chap- 
lain, "  a  man  whom  we  all  honor  the  more,  because, 
in  public  and  private,  uniformly  consistent  with  his 
principles." 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  195 

He  had  an  earlier  trial,  of  a  different  sort,  in  con- 
nection with  the  officers'  mess.  As  an  army  chaplain 
has  almost  no  secular  duties  assigned  to  him  by  the 
army  regulations,  advantage  is  sometimes  taken  of  his 
obliging  temper.  Of  one  clergyman  an  officer  re- 
marked, "  his  preaching  is  not  of  much  account,  but 
he  is  so  convenient  to  do  errands !  "  Of  Chaplain 
Fuller,  it  was  expected  that  he  should  provide  the 
officers'  mess.  This  he  found  would  take  up  so  much 
of  his  time  that  he  could  not  discharge  those  religious 
duties  which  had  led  him  on  his  army  mission.  He 
therefore  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Colonel  declining,  for 
these  reasons,  the  care  of  the  mess,  citing  the  words 
of  the  Apostles  (Acts  vi.  2),  "  It  is  not  reason  that 
we  should  leave  the  word  of  God  and  serve  tables." 
This  affair  caused  a  coldness  for  a  while  on  the  part  of 
the  Colonel,  which  was,  however,  dissipated  upon  longer 
acquaintance,  and  gave  place  to  mutual  appreciation. 
One  of  the  last  regulations  the  Colonel  established, 
before  his  death  in  the  Peninsular  campaign,  was  a 
prohibition  of  profanity  in  the  regiment. 

Among  the  coincidences  between  the  chaplaincy  at 
the  fortress  and  the  pastorate,  we  must  not  forget  the 
army  Parsonage  !  The  Chaplain  thus  describes  it :  — 

"  I  hope  it  is  with  no  feeling  of  undue  pride  that  I  an- 
nounce myself  as  a  householder  and  house-owner  here  in  the 
Old  Dominion.  Candor  requires  me  to  state,  however,  that 
said  house  consists  of  rude,  unhewn  logs,  with  a  chimney, 
built  of  old  bricks,  in  one  end  thereof,  and  a  roof  of  boards, 
with  only  the  cracks  between  shingled.  It  boasts,  however,  a 
window,  made  of  a  sash  from  a  secessionist's  house  at  Hamp- 
ton, the  broken  panes  being  supplied  with  glass  somewhat 


196  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

too  large,  but  kept  in  place  with  tacks.  The  American  flag 
serves  as  a  curtain  to  this  window,  the  rebel  relic  and  the 
patriotic  bunting  not  having  quarrelled  yet.  Several  of  the 
panes  in  the  secession  window  are  in  the  same  condition  as 
the  former  owner's  brain,  —  a  little  cracked;  still  it  serves 
well  enough  its  purpose.  My  tent  adjoins,  and  in  that  is 
my  kitchen,  with  its  camp  cooking-stove  ;  while  the  '  shanty ' 
room,  with  the  '  fly '  of  the  tent  over  it  as  a  roof,  makes  a 
good  reception-room,  or  will  do  so  if  the  weather  is  ever 
pleasant  again.  Its  walls  are  covered  with  pictures  from 
Harper's  Weekly  and  Leslie's  Illustrated,  which  please  my 
soldier  visitors,  and  occupy  their  attention,  if  obliged  to 
wait  a  short  time  before  seeing  me.  This  mongrel  tent- 
shanty  and  log-cabin  would  certainly  be  scorned  as  a  home 
or  laughed  at  in  New  England,  but  it  is  by  no  means  des- 
picable here.  A  description  of  it  may  convey  some  idea 
to  your  readers  of  how  we  soldiers  manage  to  live  in  Vir- 
ginia, away  from  home  comforts  and  luxuries.  With  the 
exception  of  the  price  of  a  few  boards,  my  habitation  has 
at  least  the  merit  of  being  an  inexpensive  building,  having 
cost  nothing  but  the  labor  of  building,  kindly  contributed  by 
the  soldiers  of  my  army-congregation.  They  call  it  the 
'  Parsonage,'  and  so  I  adopt  that  name.  It  is  in  close  and 
convenient  proximity  to  the  chapel-tent." 

Again  lie  writes  home  :  — 

"  David  *  is  beautifying  about  my  house,  setting  out  stately 
cypress  and  blooming  plum  and  apple  trees,  besides  currant- 
bushes  and  flowers.  A  large  number  of  soldiers  have  volun- 

*  David  Orr,  whom  the  Chaplain,  writing  from  his  fortress  island,  calls 
his  good  man  Friday,  was  one  of  those  God  sent  from  every  condition  in 
life  to  minister  to  and  strengthen  the  pastor  and  chaplain  in  his  pilgrimage. 
They  were  like  angels  to  him,  except  that  they  were  not  few  nor  far  be- 
tween. Of  David  Orr  he  says,  "  He  labors  for  me  a  great  deal,  and  will 
accept  no  compensation."  At  another  time,  he  writes,  "  The  comfort  of 
my  life,  David  Orr,  my  good  soldier-friend,  accompanies  me." 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  197 

teered,  and  are  making  paths  covered  with  beach-sand  of 
pure  white.  Stars  and  circles  cut  in  the  sod  of  emerald 
green  show  their  ingenuity,  and  my  log-cabin  promises  to  be 
very  lovely.  A  tea-rose  is  put  before  each  window  as  a  sort 
/of  screen  or  curtain,  and  they  grow  so  luxuriantly  here  as  to 
promise  the  best  possible  results  in  an  artistic  point  of  view." 

He  adds :  — 

"  I  always  have  two  bouquets  of  tea-roses  and  other  deli- 
cate flowers  for  my  room  and  for  the  table,  and  occasionally 
a  ripe  fig  fresh  from  the  tree." 

In  a  home  letter  lie  further  refers  to  the  Parson- 


"  It  does  seem  cheerless  when  returning  at  eventide  to  find, 
not  my  home  and  my  wife,  but  only  my  tent  and  servant-boy. 
O  those  returns  to  what  should  be  home  !  It  is  then  that  the 
sense  of  loneliness  creeps  over  the  heart,  and,  for  a  moment, 
love  seems  to  triumph  over  patriotism,  and  we  sigh  for  home. 
But,  look  about  you !  My  humble  tent  has  been  boarded, 
and  is  to  be  papered.  An  underground  brick  furnace  of 
curious  construction  removes  cold  and  dampness.  A  table 
lighted  with  candles  gladdens  the  heart,  for  on  it  are  letters 
from  my  wife  and  dear  memorials  of  darling  children  and 
of  many  loved  ones  at  home,  while  all  about  the  tent  are 
kindly  faces  of  soldiers  who  love  me,  and  some  of  whom 
would,  I  verily  believe,  die  for  me.  Ah !  I  have  a  home,  if 
a  humble  one,  and  it  is  a  dear  one,  too,  if  another  in  New 
England  be  dearer ! " 

His  attachment  to  the  soldiers  was  quite  as  strong 
as  theirs  to  him.  He  writes :  "  Money  would  not 
induce  me  to  go  back  and  leave  my  regiment.  My 
heart  is  in  my  work  here.  I  am  doing  good,  and 
that  pays  for  all." 


198  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

And  soon  the  Christian  reaper  began  to  receive 
wages.  He  writes:  "There  is  much  religious  inter- 
est in  ray  regiment.  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  it 
resulted  in  a  true  revival  of  religion." 

The  expanded  circle  of  sympathy  and  love  could 
not  supplant  the  home  affection.  Nor  could  his  adult 
"  boys  "  (as  he  always  styled  his  fellow-soldiers)  make 
him  forget  the  little  ones  who  always  drew  his  heart. 
He  writes  from  his  island  tent :  — 

"  Believe  me,  I  cannot  forget  one  flower  of  affection  strewn 
along  my  pathway,  nor  a  word  spoken  in  season,  of  counsel  or 
love.  Little  F.'s  letter  is  one  of  those  flowers,  and  from  little 
G.'s  shell,  which  I  hold  to  my  ear  as  she  desired,  I  hear  a 
mystic  song  of  sweetness.  Thanks  for  the  flower  and  shell, 
flung  by  loving  little  hands  on  this  margin  of  the  sounding 
sea," 

The  Chaplain's  labors  were  by  no  means  confined 
to  his  regimental  parish.  While  he  was  careful  to  do 
this,  his  first  and  nearest  duty,  he  was  anxious-  not  to 
leave  the  more  remote  undone.  In  this  exterior  prov- 
ince he  was  especially  interested  in  the  contrabands. 
He  thus  refers  to  a 

"  class  whom  we  meet  within  the  fortress,  on  the  exchange, 
in  the  encampment,  everywhere,  for  their  name  is  legion. 
These  are  the  '  contrabands,'  the  fugitive  slaves  of  rebel  mas- 
ters. Now  we  may  trust  they  are  free  from  oppression,  and 
that  from  their  limbs  the  chains,  and  from  their  minds  and 
spirits  the  shackles,  have  fallen  forever.  To-day  these  are 
not  slaves,  they  are  men  ;  and  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
General  Butler  first  argued  for  their  reception  and  protec- 
tion from  pursuit,  and  giving  to  them  honorable  employment 
and  treatment,  such  as  is  due  to  all  human  beings. 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  199 

"I  can  well  believe,  however,  that  the  question  what  to 
do  with  them  embarrasses  the  government.  Here  are  two 
thousand  and  two  hundred  men,  women,  and  children  thrown 
on  its  guardianship.  They  impress  me  as  a  remarkably  in- 
telligent class  of  Africans ;  probably  only  the  smartest  and 
most  intelligent  have  the  energy  to  escape  from  bondage, 
or  the  shrewdness  to  accomplish  it.  I  have  seen  much 
of  them,  and  taken  great  pains  to  ascertain  their  condition. 

"  I  have  attended  several  of  their  religious  meetings.  My 
friend,  Chaplain  Lockwood,  now  takes  the  guidance  of  them, 
'by  authority  from  General  Wool.  They  are  a  little  more 
demonstrative  than  I  am  accustomed  to  or  suits  my  taste, 
but,  for  men  and  women  so  ignorant,  less  objectionable  on 
this  score  than  could  be  expected ;  and  often  these  former 
slaves  possess  a  rude  and  simple  eloquence  which  is  most 
affecting.  On  Sabbath  last,  together  with  Brother  Lock- 
wood,  we  performed  the  marriage  service  for  some  ten  or 
twelve  couples,  at  the  African  meeting-house,  who  desired 
this  sacred  service  to  sanction  their  domestic  union,  and 
which  service  their  former  masters  had  either  forbidden  or 
declared  unnecessary  for  slaves. 

"  Many  of  these  ignorant  and  heretofore  deeply  injured 
people  are  now  desirous  of  learning  to  read.  It  would  touch 
any  kindly  heart  to  see  how  eagerly  the  poor  creatures 
crave  knowledge,  which  they  feel  to  be  essential  to  any 
progress  for  them  as  individuals  or  as  men.  By  the  laws 
of  Virginia,  to  teach  a  slave  or  a  free  colored  person  to 
read  is  a  crime,  but  one  I  would  love  to  commit  every 
day  of  my  life. 

"  The  other  day  I  attended  a  funeral  of  one  of  their  num- 
ber. The  African  loves  form,  and  here  there  was  much  of  it, 
but  nothing  absurd,  as  I  had  been  led  to  fear.  They  chanted 
many  of  their  plantation  religious  songs.  O,  they  were  so 
mournful,  so  despairing  (who  wonders  at  that  ?)  in  their 


200  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

view  of  this  life ;  but  they  changed  to  wild  pasans  when 
they  spoke  of  an  immortal  state.  The  number  present 
was  very  large,  and  they  were  very  much  moved ;  for  the 
negro  is,  beyond  all  others,  an  affectionate  race,  and  death 
touches  each  sympathetic  chord  in  his  feeling  heart.  But  with 
all  the  demonstration  of  woe  which  was  made,  not  one  note, 
not  one  word  or  deed,  of  those  poor,  ignorant,  neglected, 
oppressed  people  was  discordant  to  good  taste  or  feeling." 

In  another  connection  he  says :  — 

"  I  have  talked  with  many  of  them,  and  am  confirmed 
daily  in  my  faith  that  no  genuine  man,  white  or  black,  was 
ever  satisfied  with  slavery,  and  that  the  normal  condition  of 
every  race  and  individual  is  freedom.  Their  situation  here 
is  now  much  improved,  and  benevolence  is  doing  much  for 
their  welfare,  while  the  authorities  are  not  negligent  of  their 
comfort. 

"  However  sad  this  war  may  have  made  many  of  us,  it 
certainly  has  brought,  and  must  yet  bring,  much  blessing  to 
the  oppressed  and  enslaved  African.  These  three  thousand 
at  and  near  the  fortress,  who  by  the  war  have  been  made 
FREE,  —  they  indeed  may  and  should  fill  the  air  with  songs 
of  solemn  thanksgiving.  And  they  do  rejoice,  but  not  with 
noisy  hilarity.  They  come  together  rather  with  prayer  for 
the  diffusion  yet  more  widely  of  the  boon  of  freedom.  Yes- 
terday, though  a  holiday  and  a  day  of  unutterable  gladness 
to  this  long-suffering  people,  I  saw  not  one  colored  person 
intoxicated,  nor  heard  of  one  in  that  condition." 

Again,  referring  to  the  contrabands,  he  writes  :  — 

"  Every  day  brings  fresh  arrivals  of  these  fugitives  from 
bondage.  As  the  enemy  withdraws,  a  portion  of  his  prop- 
erty is  destroyed  by  fire,  and  thus  takes  to  itself  wings  of 
smoke  and  flame  and  flies  away,  and  other  '  property,'  house- 
hold chattels,  takes  to  itself  legs,  and  runs  off  to  the  fortress 


FORTRESS  MONROE.  201 

as  fast  as  possible.  Ungrateful  beings,  to  desert  masters  and 
mistresses  who  have  been  so  kind,  and  to  leave  a  state  of 
servitude  which  South-Side  clergymen  declare  to  be  almost 
Elysium !  What  ignorant  fools,  to  prefer  freedom  to  slavery ! 

"  And  here  let  me  contradict  a  report,  that  the  contrabands 
in  this  region  are  unwilling  to  work,  and  have  many  of  them 
run  back  to  their  masters.  Both  statements  involved  in  this 
report  are  untrue.  The  contrabands  are,  as  a  general  thing, 
willing  to  labor,  though  complaining  much  that  the  govern- 
ment does  not  pay  them  wages,  as  they  had  been  led  to 
expect.  But  I  speak  from  personal  observation,  when  I 
say  they  are  anxious  for  any  employment  reasonably  re- 
munerative. My  tent-door  has  been  besieged  with  applica- 
tions from  boys  and  men  desiring  to  be  servants.  I  was 
over-persuaded,  at  last,  to  take  a  contraband  youth  into  my 
service  for  a  few  days,  who  proved  diligent,  faithful,  and 
industrious  beyond  my  expectations.  I  had  engaged  another 
servant  for  the  place,  who  yesterday  arrived ;  but  I  have 
seen  enough  of  this  poor  African  lad  to  know  that  some  of 
Ms  race,  at  least,  are  skilful,  truthful,  and  energetic.  On 
board  the  United  States  flag-ship  Minnesota,  there  is  a  boat's 
crew  of  contrabands.  I  was  assured  by  one  of  the  officers 
the  other  day,  when  visiting  the  frigate,  that  this  crew  ex- 
celled in  fidelity,  and  was  the  only  one  which  needed  not 
an  officer  to  accompany  them  when  they  went  ashore,  as 
not  a  man  of  them  would  get  drunk  or  desert. 

"As  to  their  returning  to  rebeldom,  it  would  not  have 
been  a  matter  of  surprise  if  some  few  of  a  race  proverbially 
affectionate  had  returned  to  their  former  homes  and  masters 
(no  doubt  some  of  them  kind  ones),  and,  above  all,  to  their 
kindred  left  behind  when  they  fled ;  but,  after  thorough 
inquiry,  I  cannot  hear  of  one  such  instance,  and  am  assured, 
by  those  who  are  in  a  position  to  know,  that  not  one  such 
case  has  occurred.  I  have  been  thus  particular  in  this  refu- 
9* 


202  CHAPLAIN  FULLEB. 

tation,  because  here  the  colored  race  are  being  tested  as  to 
their  desire  for  freedom  and  adaptedness  to  it.  The  question 
is  one  which  must  and  will  soon  interest  the  whole  nation, 
and  a  decision  cannot  long  be  postponed." 

He  gives  an  instance  of  service  rendered  by  the 
contrabands :  — 

"  The  Sixteenth  were  paid  off  a  day  or  two  since,  but  I 
question  whether  that  agreeable  incident  gave  them  as  much 
pleasure  as  an  exploit  by  Company  F  of  this  regiment,  under 
Captain  C.  E.  Johnson,  of  Lexington.  This  energetic  com- 
pany were  on  picket-guard  a  few  nights  since,  when  some 
slaves  (ever  our  friends  and  the  friends  of  the  Union,  when 
that  is  understood  to  mean  freedom)  gave  'notice  that  two 
rebel  spies  were  about  Fox  Hill,  near  our  pickets.  A  patrol 
was  sent  promptly  out,  consisting  of  only  four  men,  under  the 
command  of  Sergeant  Morris,  the  two  slaves  acting  as  guides. 
The  patrol  force  proceeded  under  this  guidance  to  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Topping,  who  has  heretofore  made  loud  pretensions 
of  Union  and  loyal  sentiments,  has  taken  with  the  utmost 
cheerfulness  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  had  a  pass  and  pro- 
tection from  the  federal  military  authorities,  yet  nevertheless 
has  been  a  traitorous  spy,  and  actually  in  the  service  of  the 
rebel  army  as  their  sutler. 

"  He  has  been  in  the  habit  of  procuring  gold  here,  and 
exchanging  it  for  Confederate  bonds  for  a  high  premium. 
He  has  also  procured  other  supplies,  especially  information, 
of  which  the  rebels  have  always  stood,  and  still  do  stand,  in 
great  need,  though  not  of  the  sort  Mr.  Topping  has  given 
them.  On  arriving  at  the  house,  Mrs.  Topping  assured  Ser- 
geant Morris  that  her  husband  was  not  at  home,  which  fash- 
ionable announcement  our  soldiers  declined  believing.  She 
protested  '  on  her  honor  as  a  Southern  lady '  that  he  was  not 
in  the  house,  but  absent  in  the  rebel  service,  and  she  '  had 


FOETRESS  MONROE.  203 

not  seen  him  for  three  months,'  but  Sergeant  Morris  dis- 
trusted the  lady's  eyesight  and  word,  rather  than  that  of  the 
whilom  slaves  who  acted  as  guides. 

"  After  search,  the  sutler  was  found  attempting  to  go  '  on 
tick,'  in  spite  of  our  boys'  declaration  of  '  no  trust,'  which  a 
sutler  ought  to  understand.  In  other  words,  he  was  found 
by  our  distrustful  soldiers  snugly  ensconced  between  two 
bed-ticks,  whence  he  was  rather  roughly  dragged  forth  by 
Sergeant  Morris.  Subsequent  search  revealed  his  pocket- 
book,  containing  several  confederate  bonds,  several  rebel 
passes,  and  his  'protection,'  now  outlawed." 

And  here  follows  a  picture  of  a  woman  of  the  de- 
spised race  :  — 

"  Do  any  of  your  readers  remember  my  writing,  a  while 
since,  about  a  noble  and  gifted  colored  woman  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, Mrs.  Peak,  and  her  sweet  little  daughter,  called  by 
the  soldiers  '  little  Daisy '  ?  Mrs.  Peak,  her  husband  and 
child,  would  scarcely  be  known  as  colored  persons,  being 
almost  white,  and  the  child  having  blue  eyes  and  long,  flow- 
ing brown  hair. 

"  Mrs.  Peak  has  nearly  all  her  life  been  a  teacher.  She 
was  an  accomplished  scholar,  and  possessed  a  singularly  gifted 
mind,  and  ah1  her  talents  she  devoted,  unselfishly,  to  the  eleva- 
tion of  her  own  race.  She  might  have  easily  separated  her- 
self from  them ;  she  was  free-born,  and  though  her  husband 
had  been  a  slave,  he  had  years  since  purchased  his  freedom, 
and,  by  his  industry  and  her  exertions,  had  earned  a  goodly 
property,  so  that,  before  the  fire  at  Hampton,  he  owned  two 
houses  and  several  thousand  dollars.  All  was  lost  by  that 
rebel  incendiary  conflagration.  But  she  refused  to  separate 
herself  from  the  race  with  whom  she  acknowledged  kindred 
blood,  which,  though  slight  in  her  veins,  was  never  forgotten 
in  her  heart.  She  established  a  school  here  for  the  '  contra- 


204  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

bands,'  the  first  of  its  kind  ;  she  devoted  herself  to  gratuitous 
teaching,  and  doing  this  in  a  cold  room,  the  best  her  means 
could  procure,  soon  became  sick  ;  consumptive  symptoms 
were  aggravated,  and  she  was  confined  to  her  bed.  Even 
there  and  then  she  taught  the  poor  colored  children.  But 
her  end  was  near. 

"  At  midnight,  Sunday,  the  cry,  '  Twelve  o'clock  and  all 's 
well ! '  came  over  the  waters  from  every  naval  vessel  in  our 
harbor.  It  was  '  all  well '  with  Mrs.  Peak  then,  for  at  that 
moment  she  breathed  her  last  sigh,  felt  her  last  throb  of  pain, 
and  '  passed  on  '  from  midnight's  gloom  of  earth  to  the  high 
noon  of  radiant  Heaven.  I  saw  and  prayed  with  her  on  the 
last  day  of  life.  That  day  was  as  calm,  as  holy  and  happy, 
as  any  of  her  earthly  days  could  ever  have  been.  She  loved 
to  sing,  and  sung  then,  '  Homeward  Bound,'  and  '  There  is 
rest  for  the  weary,'  tunes  which  our  soldiers  sing  from  the 
Army  Melodies,  and  the  contrabands  are  not  slow  in  learning 
and  applying  in  their  own  hours  of  sorrow.  Mrs.  Peak  was 
a  remarkable  woman,  irrespective  of  her  race,  and  deserves 
to  be  eyer  remembered.  Like  Moses  of  old,  she  refused  to 
be  separated  from  her  despised  and  enslaved  people,  or  to 
be  exempt  from  their  trials  ;  and  chose  rather  to  suffer  afflic- 
tion with  them  than  to  enjoy  worldly  pleasure." 

Chaplain  Fuller  was  glad  to  mingle  his  services  with 
those  of  the  noble  philanthropists,  who,  by  caring  for 
the  sick  and  wounded  soldier,  have  won  fadeless  lau- 
rels, if  not  of  earthly  honor,  at  least  of  that  heavenly 
fame,  which 

"  lives  and  spreads  aloft  in  those  pure  eyes, 
And  perfect  witness  of  all-judging  Jove, 
As  he  pronounces  lastly  on  each  deed." 

He  says  of  the  Hygeia  Hospital :  — 

"This  is  admirably  conducted  under  the  skilful  superin- 


FORTRESS  MONROE/  205 

tendence  of  Dr.  Cuyler,  surgeon  in  the  regular  army,  and 
long  a  resident  at  the  fortress.  Here,  too,  are  refined  ladies 
as  nurses  of  the  sick,  under  the  appointment  secured  by  Miss 
Dix,  who  has  been  indefatigable  in  her  care  of  all  the  army 
hospitals.  Several  of  the  sick  soldiers  of  the  Sixteenth  Regi- 
ment were  quartered  here,  and  it  seemed  good  to  see  a  woman's 
kindly  face  again,  and  have  her  gentle  ministry  in  our  weary 
and  painful  hours.  Here,  too,  I  find  many  wounded  soldiers 
of  the  Great  Bethel  fight,  —  some  Germans,  some  Amer- 
icans, and  all  so  patient,  so  willing  to  lose  life  or  limb  for 
their  native  or  adopted  country,  and  only  mourning  that  they 
did  not  achieve  a  victory.  It  is  a  privilege  to  visit  and  pray 
with  such  noble  men.  God  bless  the  wounded  soldiers  of  our 
patriotic  army,  and  send  them  always  as  good  care  as  they 
get  from  the  physicians  and  nurses  of  this  hospital  at  Old 
Point  Comfort.  Once  this  was  the  hotel  of  Virginia.  Here 
President  Buchanan  loved  to  come,  not  forgetting  to  bring 
his  '  old  rye  '  as  a  companion.  In  the  very  room  I  occupy, 
and  whence  I  write,  Senator  Mason,  only  last  year,  in  the 
summer,  was  an  occupant.  These  walls  have  looked  on 
many  a  nest  of  rebels,  and  listened  to  many  a  plot  of  treason. 
"  In  the  beautiful  hall,  with  its  splendid  mirrors,  once  the 
ball-room  of  the  Hygeia  Hotel,  we  held  our  religious  ser- 
vices yesterday.  Your  correspondent  preached  from  the  text, 
Isaiah  xxxiii.  24 :  'And  the  inhabitants  shall  not  say  I  am 
sick ;  the  people  that  dwell  therein  shall  be  forgiven  their 
iniquity.'  My  effort  was  to  point  to  the  heavenly  land  and 
its  hopes,  as  a  solace  for  the  trials  of  this,  and  to  show  the 
sick  and  wounded  soldiery,  that  if  their  physical  wounds  are 
gained  in  their  country's  cause,  and  are  patiently  endured ;  if, 
too,  they  are  '  soldiers  of  the  living  God,'  as  well  as  loyal 
American  soldiers,  all  such  shall  ultimately  be  victors, — 
'  conquerors  though  they  're  slain,'  —  and  shall  dwell  forever 
in  that  land  no  one  of  whose  inhabitants  need  to  say,  '  I  am 
sick.'" 


206  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Again,  upon  the  same  topic,  he  writes  :  — 

"  Yesterday  was  a  good  day  for  us,  and  seemed  more  than 
usual  like  a  Sunday  at  home.  It  is  not  our  custom  to  have 
preaching  in  the  morning,  as  camp  duties  interfere  with  it 
early,  and  by  ten  o'clock  A.  M.  it  becomes  insufferably  hot. 
Your  correspondent  was,  therefore,  again  enabled  to  hold 
services  at  the  Hygeia  Hospital,  with  the  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers  there.  It  was  a  great  gratification  to  find  Miss  Dix 
present,  from  Washington,  who  came  to  the  fortress  person- 
ally to  investigate  the  sanitary  condition  of  our  soldiery 
in  the  hospitals  and  camps.  In  the  afternoon  Dr.  McCay, 
Miss  Dix,  and  the  writer  visited  each  of  the  hospitals,  as  far 
as  practicable,  and  the  fine  seminary  building  near  Hampton, 
which  will  doubtless  be  used  as  a  hospital  in  winter,  and 
afford  most  comfortable  quarters  for  the  sick.  O  how 
the  countenances  of  the  wounded  or  ill  gleamed  with  glad- 
ness as  they  saw  once  more  a  woman's  friendly  face,  and 
heard  her  kindly  voice.  The  soldiers  of  the  Sixteenth,  sick 
or  well,  were  delighted  as  she  inquired  into  their  wants  and 
condition.  God  bless  all  who  seek  to  comfort  and  soothe  the 
suffering  among  our  brave  men,  and  those,  too,  who  tell  them 
how  to  avoid  illness  and  make  hardship  seem  light." 

After  these  labors  of  the  day  he  preached  in  the 
evening  to  the  contrabands. 

He  also  writes  to  his  family  from  the  fortress,  that 

"  the  new  seminary  hospital  has  just  been  opened  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  here.  It  has  six  hundred  and  eighty  patients,  and 
I  am  the  only  army  chaplain  to  visit  and  comfort  the  poor 
fellows.  I  go  almost  daily  to  pray  with  the  sick  and  dying, 
and  bury  the  dead.  It  is  very  trying ;  but  I  am  sustained  in 
looking  on  ghastly  wounds  and  pallid  faces,  and  hearing  dying 
groans.  Ah!  how  serious  life  looks  to  me  now!  I  shall 
never  be  very  gay  again,  I  think,  though  always  cheerful. 


FORTRESS   MONROE.  207 

Usefulness,  goodness,  not  happiness,  seem  to  me  now  the 
great  objects  of  existence,  and,  to  make  each  other  nobler 
and  better,  our  chief  duty." 

In  connection  with  the  hospitals,  he  also  says :  — 

"  This  hospital  is  admirably  conducted  at  the  fortress,  so 
far  as  attendance  upon  the  sick  is  concerned,  by  the  kind  and 
noble  ladies  who  have  charge  of  that  department.  Soldiers, 
when  sick,  go  there  dreading  the  confinement  and  treatment, 
but  soon  they  learn  alike  to  love  and  honor  the  saintly  ma- 
tron, Mrs.  Dulley,  and  her  worthy  associates.  I  do  not  use 
too  strong  a  term  when  I  say  saintly,  for  what  else  is  it  for 
a  cultivated  and  intellectual  woman  thus  to  leave  home,  and 
devote  herself  to  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  receiving  but 
a  poor  pittance  as  wages  for  the  most  exacting  toil  ?  I  am  a 
constant  visitor  of  the  hospital  here,  and  speak  advisedly 
when  I  use  these  strong  words  of  commendation." 

Of  Mrs.  Dulley  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  his  wife  : 
"  Next  to  my  mother  and  sister  and  Lizzie  and  you,  I 
honor  her  most  of  the  women  I  have  known  in  real 
life."  In  a  published  letter  he  says,  that  she 

"  is  loved  by  every  soldier  who  has  ever  come  under  her  care. 
They  regard  her  as  a  mother,  and  she  could  not  be  more  ten- 
der, more  kindly  in  her  care  of  her  own  brave  sons,  than  she 
is  of  these  wounded  and  dying  soldiers.  I  know  if  this  trib- 
ute ever  meets  her  eye  she  will  deprecate  its  praise ;  but  after 
months  of  viewing  her  laborious  self-sacrifice  in  a  public  hos- 
pital, and  hearing  from  so  many  soldiers  yet  more  fervent 
words  of  praise  and  blessing,  I  cannot  refrain  from  this  testi- 
monial. If  ever  we  have  a  saints'  calendar  in  our  church, 
the  name  of  this  devoted  woman,  who  so  long  has  toiled 
amid  sickness  and  danger  and  death,  must  not  be  forgotten." 

Of  a  death  in  the  hospital  of  his  regiment  he  writes :  — 


208  CHAPLAIN  FULLER 


"  A  few  days  since,  there  died  within  its  limits  a  young 
man  named  James  Kavanagh ;  and  a  most  solemn  sight 
was  presented,  as  his  company  came  to  take  their  last  look  at 
their  comrade.  He  was  dressed  in  his  soldier's  uniform,  though 
his  battles  are  all  over.  He  looked  calm  and  joyous  in  death, 
and  as  if  the  flag  of  his  country,  which  draped  his  coffin,  called 
to  his  face  one  glad,  loving,  triumphant  smile.  For  that  flag, 
and  what  it  symbolizes,  he  died,  as  truly  as  if  he  had  perished 
on  the  battle-field,  and  not  of  typhoid  fever  in  the  hospital. 
It  was  touching  to  see  on  a  table  near,  unopened  letters,  di- 
rected to  him,  whose  loving  words  he  will  never  read.  Poor 
James !  And  yet  we  cannot  pity  him,  but  honor  rather  the 
memory  of  one  whose  sweet  privilege  it  was  to  die  for  his 
country." 

He  thus  refers  to  another  death  :  — 

"  An  orderly  sergeant  of  Company  H,  after  calling  the  roll 
of  his  company,  went  to  the  hospital,  and  almost  instantly 
expired.  He  seemed  sleeping  in  his  chair,  but  on  examina- 
tion he,  too,  had  passed  on  to  answer  the  solemn  roll-call 
which  is  ever  being  responded  to  by  that  innumerable  com- 
pany who  are  constantly  hearing  the  summons  of  the  '  great 
Captain  of  our  salvation.'  Death  on  the  battle-field,  —  that 
is  sad,  though  glorious,  but  death  in  tent  or  hospital,  with  no 
mother  or  wife  to  close  the  dying  eyes,  though  equally  the 
result  of  a  patriotic  performance  of  duty,  that  death  seems 
sadder;  and  a  funeral,  with  no  relative  to  follow  the  bier, 
with  only  the  soldierly  train,  and  martial  though  plaintive 
music,  ah !  that  seems  saddest  of  all.  Die  when  I  may,  let 
me  be  buried  at  home,  and  let  my  dust  mingle  with  that  of 
'kindred  and  loved  ones.'" 

Again  he  writes  home  of  the  Seminary  Hospital :  — 

"  We  average  three  funerals  a  day.  Though  none  of  my 
regiment  are  in  this  hospital,  and  I  have  no  official  duty  in 


FORTRESS   MONEOE.  209 

connection  with  it,  yet  it  is  without  a  chaplain,  and  I  cannot 
know  of  such  a  spot  without  seeking  to  do  all  in  my  power 
for  these  dear  brother-soldiers,  suffering,  dying,  far  from 
home !  O  how  small  seem  the  trials  and  hardships  which 
the  majority  endure,  compared  with  the  sufferings  of  these 
men !  I  am  weary  of  any  plaint  from  the  favored  of  earth 
when  I  compare  their  homes  and  their  luxuries  with  the  lot 
of  the  wounded  and  sick  soldiers.  The  other  day  I  prayed 
with  and  addressed  the  wounded  Vermonters,  one  hundred  in 
number,  in  the  seventh  ward  of  the  Hygeia  Hospital.  They 
were  sweetly  patient  and  bravely  cheerful,  though  many  have 
lost  a  limb,  and  many  more  will  never  leave  those  beds  on 
which  they  lie  until  borne  forth  to  burial  in  a  stranger's  and  a 
soldier's  grave,  with  only  a  pine  head-board,  on  which  their 
names  are  pencilled,  to  mark  their  resting-place." 

Victory   was   a  potent  physician.      The    Chaplain 

says :  — 

"  I  visited  the  hospitals  yesterday,  and  found  the  wounded 
and  sick  soldiers  there  so  improved  that  I  wondered  for 
a  while  what  patent  elixir  they  had  taken  to  make  them  all 
feel  so  much  better  and  make  light  account  of  wounds  re- 
ceived in  their  country's  service,  or  of  disease  which  had 
laid  its  hands  upon  them  in  her  camps,  but  soon  found  that 
the  charmed  medicine  was  a  specific  and  panacea  for  all 
their  complaints,  and  is  labelled  VICTORY.  Ask  them  what 
had  wrought  the  change,  and  they  would  tell  you  that  Mill 
Spring,  Fort  Henry,  and  Roanoke  had  been  their  physicians, 
till  the  lame  could  almost  leap  for  joy,  and  the  most  weary 
and  disease-stricken  take  up  their  beds  and  march  forth  to 
share  in  further  conquests.  The  released  prisoners  from 
Richmond,  whose  wounds  were  too  severe  to  permit  them 
to  go  to  their  homes  when  landed  here,  were  not  among  the 
least  joyous." 

N 


210  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

In  these  hospitals  the  wounded  and  sick  rebel  prison- 
ers were  nursed  as  tenderly  as  Union  soldiers,  and  it 
was  sometimes  charged  that  the  former  were  the  most 
tenderly  cared  for,  in  the  anxiety  of  Unionists  to  heap 
coals  of  fire  upon  the  enemy's  head,  while  they 
evinced  also  that  in  their  holy  war  hate  was  not  en- 
listed and  love  had  not  been  left  at  home.  The  Chap- 
lain often  spoke  touchingly  of  sick  and  wounded  rebels, 
who  at  first  repelled  his  ministrations,  but  were  gen- 
erally won  over  by  his  kind  address.  Such  was  the 
case  of  a  young  officer  from  South  Carolina,  who  had 
lost  both  his  legs.  As  the  cots  of  Union  and  Rebel 
soldiers  were  placed  promiscuously,  the  Chaplain  some- 
tunes  knew  not  which  he  addressed.  He  was  struck 
with  the  lustrous  dark  eyes  of  the  young  man,  who 
bore  the  marks  of  tender  nurture,  and  to  comfort  him 
referred  to  the  reward  of  the  good  soldier.  "  But  do 
you  know  who  I  am,"  said  the  prostrate  youth.  "  I 
suppose  a  Union  soldier."  "  No,"  the  other  rejoined, 
"  I  belong  to  a  South  Carolina  company."  "  Ah  !  "  said 
the  Chaplain,  "  I  grieve  for  that.  Your  cause  is  at 
best  mistaken.  But  we  take  no  advantage  of  your 
position  to  reproach  you.  If  you  have  thought  you 
were  in  the  right,  may  God  forgive  you !  "  The  scene 
ended  by  the  youth  asking  the  Chaplain  to  stoop  over 
and  kiss  him,  while  he  threw  his  arms  about  his  neck. 

In  a  published  letter  on  this  topic  the  Chaplain  says : 

"  In  the  hospital,  no  surgeon,  no  chaplain,  recognizes  any 
distinction  between  Unionists  and  Rebels.  Shame  were  it  if 
we  did !  Let  our  national  enemies  forget  humanity  if  they 
will,  we  cannot,  we  will  not,  except  first  we  forget  the  pre- 
cepts of  that  blessed  Book  which,  while  it  sternly  declares 


FOBTEESS  MONBOE.  211 

the  necessity  of  war  and  bloodshed  in  sin's  remission  and  the 
world's  progress,  yet  also  demands,  as  the  highest  of  duties, 
visiting  the  sick  and  imprisoned,  feeding  our  hungry  enemy, 
and  the  forgiveness  of  every  repentant  man.  May  the  North, 
which  has  answered  so  nobly  when  war's  dread  clarion  sound- 
ed, listen  also  and  heed  and  bless  those  who  on  suffering  beds 
are  dying  for  their  country,  or  on  them  expiating  their  offence, 
till  we  whisper,  Father,  forgive  and  bless  them  all ! " 

The  labors  of  the  Chaplain  in  the  hospital  furnish  a 
marked  parallel  with  those  of  his  sister  Margaret  in 
Italy,  which  are  thus  recounted  in  a  letter  of  the  Amer- 
ican Consul,  Mr.  Lewis  Cass,  Jr.,  which  has  not  before 
been  published. 

"  In  the  engagements  between  the  Roman  and  French 
troops,  the  wounded  of  the  former  were  brought  into  the 
city  and  disposed  throughout  the  different  hospitals,  which 
were  under  the  superintendence  of  several  ladies  of  high 
rank,  who  had  formed  themselves  into  associations,  the  better 
to  insure  care  and  attention  to  these  unfortunate  men.  Mar- 
garet Fuller  took  an  active  part  in  this  noble  work,  and  the 
greater  portion  of  her  time  during  the  entire  siege  was  passed 
in  attendance  upon  the  inmates  of  the  Hospital  of  the  Trinity 
of  the  Pilgrims,  which  was  placed  under  her  direction. 

"  The  weather  was  intensely  hot,  and  her  health  was  feeble 
and  delicate ;  the  dead  and  dying  were  around  her  in  every 
form  of  pain  and  horror,  yet  she  never  shrank  from  the  duty 
she  had  assumed.  Her  heart  and  soul  were  in  the  cause  for 
which  these  men  had  fought,  and  all  was  done  that  woman 
could  do  to  comfort  them  in  their  sufferings.  As  she  moved 
among  the  dying,  extended  upon  opposite  beds,  I  have  seen 
their  eyes  meet  in  commendation  of  her  unwearied  kindness, 
and  the  friends  of  those  who  there  passed  away  may  derive 
consolation  from  the  assurance  that  nothing  was  wanting  to 


212  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

soothe  their  last  moments.  And  I  have  heard  many  of  those 
who  recovered  speak  with  all  the  passionate  fervor  of  the 
Italian  nature  of  her  whose  sympathy  and  compassion 
throughout  their  long  illness  fulfilled  all  the  offices  of  love 
and  affection.  Mazzini,  the  chief  of  the  Triumvirate,  often 
expressed  to  me  his  admiration  of  her  high  character,  and  the 
Princess  Belgiojoso,  to  whom  was  assigned  the  charge  of  the 
Papal  Palace  on  the  Quirinal,  which  was  converted  on  this 
occasion  into  a  hospital,  was  enthusiastic  in  her  praise.  And 
in  a  letter  which  I  received  not  long  ago  from  this  lady,  who 
is  gaining  the  bread  of  an  exile  by  teaching  languages  in 
Constantinople,  she  alludes  with  much  feeling  to  the  support 
afforded  by  Margaret  Fuller  to  the  republican  party  in  Italy. 
Here,  in  Rome,  she  is  still  spoken  of  in  terms  of  regard  and 
endearment,  and  the  announcement  of  her  death  was  received 
with  a  degree  of  sorrow  not  often  bestowed  upon  a  foreigner, 
and  especially  one  of  a  different  faith." 


CHAPTER    III. 


FORTRESS   INCIDENTS  :    INCLUDING   THE   CONTEST  BETWEEN 
THE  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 

"  If  there  be  movements  in  the  patriot's  soul, 

From  source  still  deeper  and  of  higher  worth, 
T  is  thine  the  quickening  impulse  to  control, 
And  in  due  season  send  the  mandate  forth; 
Thy  call  a  prostrate  nation  can  restore, 
TV  hen  but  a  single  mind  resolves  to  crouch  no  more." 

WORDSWORTH,  Ode  to  Enterprise. 

"  And  the  Philistine  said  to  David,  Come  to  me,  and  I  will  give  thy  flesh  unto  the 
fowls  of  the  air,  and  to  the  beasts  of  the  field." 

AR'S  stern  front  occasionally  had  a  feature 
of  pleasantness,  and  even  its  desolations 
were  adorned  with  a  flower.  Of  the  ruins 
he  writes:  — 

"  I  have  always  felt  a  desire  to  journey  abroad  and  behold 
the  ruins  of  the  Old  World.  How  often  we  are  told  that  we 
have  no  ruins  to  make  the  landscape  picturesque,  no  '  de- 
serted village'  to  inspire  a  Goldsmith's  poetic  strain.  But 
this  is  true  no  longer  of  America ;  alas !  sadly  untrue  will  it 
be  before  this  desolating  war,  which  rebellion  has  instituted, 
is  ended." 

From  these  ruins  a  practical  advantage  was  also 
derived. 

"  A  foray,  authorized  by  the  proper  officials,  has  just  been 


214  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

made  by  us  upon  the  ruins  of  burned  Hampton.  From  them 
have  been  brought  to  our  camp  boards,  stoves,  and  whatever 
was  needful  to  preserve  our  men  from  suffering,  and  many  a 
relic  of  these  picturesque  ruins  and  remembrancer  of  rebel 
outrage  and  recklessness  will  reach  in  due  time  our  Massa- 
chusetts homes.  Cruel  and  wanton  was  the  destruction  by 
Magruder's  men  of  this  once  thriving  and  beautiful  village ; 
but  the  deed  was  done,  and  those  scarred  timbers  are  silent, 
and  many  homeless  wanderers  are  eloquent  witnesses  of 
the  atrocious  character  of  this  rebellion. 

"  Some  of  the  half-melted  or  burned  articles  taken  from 
these  ruins  look  singularly  like  antiques  from  Herculaneum 
or  Pompeii.  I  have  a  portion  of  the  metal  of  the  noted  bell 
which  was  given  to  the  ancient  Episcopal  Church  at  Hamp- 
ton, long  before  the  separation  of  our  country  from  Great 
Britain.  Besides  this  relic,  some  odd  half-melted  coins,  and 
books  (one  more  than  a  century  old),  I  have  been  permitted 
to  retain  as  relics." 

"  Beauty  for  ashes  ! "  exclaims  the  chaplain :  "  such  is 
the  prophetic  promise  of  Isaiah,  when,  *  the  spirit  of  the  Lord 
God  being  upon  him,'  he  announced  the  joyous  era  which 
was  to  succeed  the  then  present  desolation  of  Judaea  and 
Jerusalem.  I  could  not  but  be  forcibly  reminded  of  this 
awhile  since,  as  I  trod  amid  the  ruins  of  Hampton.  This  once 
thriving  city  was  burned  by  the  torches  of  the  rebels,  and 
ancient  churches,  modern  school-houses,  and  once  goodly  and 
beautiful  dwellings,  are  now  blackened  ruins  or  an  indis- 
criminate mass  of  ashes  beneath  the  foot  of  the  gazer.  As 
I  looked  about  on  these  scarred  and  tottering  walls,  or  the 
dark  and  fragmentary  mass  which  strewed  the  ground,  all 
seemed  desolation,  and  the  once  fair  city  is  fast  becoming  a 
howling  wilderness,  —  a  change  wrought  by  traitorous  hands. 
The  scene  was  indescribably  mournful.  But  even  there 
I  saw  God's  promise  fulfilled.  A  beautiful  rose,  which  the 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  215 

ike  had  not  utterly  killed,  had  been  made  more  luxuriant  by 
the  ashes  heaped  around  its  roots,  and  was  blooming  more 
profusely  than  it  ever  could  have  done  before.  Yes,  — 
'  beauty  for  ashes.'  The  dear  God,  who  loves  not  desola- 
tion and  human  ruin,  —  who  crowns  the  most  frowning  cliff 
with  some  coronal  of  love,  —  he  had  made  this  flower 
bloom  amid  that  fearful  scene  of  ruin  and  human  wrath,  as 
a  token  of  Divine  benignity.  Let  us  accept  the  omen,  and 
believe  that  God,  from  the  desolation  and  ruin  of  this  war, 
will  yet  cause  the  flower  of  Liberty  to  bloom  and  flourish 
with  redoubled  splendor.  He  who  shielded  that  tender  shrub 
amid  the  tempest  of  flame,  and  caused  it  to  rear  anew  its 
head,  and  perfume  the  air  with  its  fragrance,  —  nurtured  to 
more  radiant  beauty  by  that  very  storm  of  human  wrath  and 
the  ashes  of  its  destructive  flames,  —  he  shall  shield  the 
tree  of  Liberty  which  our  fathers  planted  on  these  Western 
shores,  even  amid  these  times,  when  the  flames  of  civil  war 
are  carrying  desolation  in  their  pathway ;  and  so,  when  the 
war  is  over,  and  as  a  result  of  the  war,  gazing  nations  shall 
find  that  tree  blooming  with  more  than  its  pristine  beauty, 
above  the  ashes  of  our  battle-fields,  and  sending  even  a  holier 
perfume  upward,  as  incense  of  gratitude  to  Heaven." 

The  buried  ruins  of  humanity,  too,  Nature's  fair 
hand  forgot  not  to  decorate.  The  Chaplain  says  of 
the  fortress  cemetery :  — 

"  We  turned  at  last  from  our  toilsome  but  interesting  ride 
on  the  sandy  shore  into  a  path  which  led  through  the  woods. 
How  changed  the  scene  !  At  the  entrance  was  the  picket- 
guard,  looking  picturesque  in  their  house  of  boughs,  or 
beneath  the  pines,  with  their  rifles  stacked  near  and  ready 
for  use  at  a  moment's  warning.  That  ride  through  the  Vir- 
ginia forest  we  shall  long  remember.  The  live-oak  abounded, 
with  its  brilliant  green  leaf.  It  was  twined  and  wreathed 


216  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

with  many  a  vine,  lending  it  grace  and  charm  in  return 
for  the  support  its  strength  afforded.  There,  too,  stood  the 
holly-tree,  with  its  splendor  of  clustered  berries,  making  it 
seem  decked  with  rubies  from  the  crown  to  the  very  skirt 
of  its  green  robe  of  leaves.  Riding  on,  we  soon  came  to  a 
paling,  and  there,  within,  were  many  graves  of  soldiers  who 
have  died  near  or  in  the  fortress,  in  past  years,  or  in  this 
eventful  one,  so  soon  to  be  numbered  with  the  past.  The 
cemetery  is  in  a  little  pi«  grove,  and  the  lofty  trees  seemed 
sighing  a  sad  yet  noble  requiem  over  the  graves  of  the 
soldiers.  Ah,  well!  by  the  side  of  most  of  these  graves 
wife  or  mother  never  stood,  to  chant  the  solemn  requiem, 
or  let  fall  the  tear  of  sorrow !  Let  the  winds  of  heaven 
sing  the  strain  through  the  pine-trees  above,  and  let  the 
clouds  drop  tears  pure  as  the  sweet  heavens  over  these 
graves  which  kindred  may  never  see !  It  looked  almost 
strange  to  observe  in  that  soldiers'  cemetery  one  or  two 
graves  of  women,  and  one  wherein  the  passionless  forms  of 
two  twin  children  slept.  These,  doubtless,  belonged  to  the 
families  of  soldiers,  who  followed  them  to  the  fortress,  and 
here  found  —  a  grave. 

"  The  cemetery  has  a  rustic  entrance,  a  portion  of  which 
is  formed  into  that  emblem  dear  to  every  Christian,  though 
once  an  emblem  of  obloquy,  —  the  cross.  A  part  of  the 
fence  has  fallen,  however,  and,  despite  the  picturesqueness 
of  the  spot,  the  graveyard  looked  neglected  and  somewhat 
desolate,  as  is  almost  unavoidable  here  and  now.  Very  beau- 
tiful are  the  sighing  trees  ;  and  typical  of  '  glory,  honor,  and 
immortality'  are  the  chaplets  of  live-oak  and  holly  which 
stand  near  the  bed  of  those  silent  sleepers ;  but  very  cold 
and  desolate  look  those  graves  beneath,  made  in  the  sand, 
whose  whiteness  speaks  of  the  winding-sheet  and  the  pallor 
of  death.  Just  without  this  enclosure  is  another  cemetery,  in 
which  we  noticed  that  the  graves  were  mostly  of  marines  and 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  217 

sailors  of  the  navy,  whose  bodies  have  been  borne  here  for 
interment ;  those  who  once  tenanted  them  departing  life  in 
the  harbor  or  near  the  shore.  We  spoke  no  word  in  that 
army  and  navy  cemetery ;  and  yet  not  wholly  voiceless  was 
that  solitude,  deeper,  more  solemn,  and  yet  more  sweet  than 
the  eternal  dirge  which  the  pine  grove  and  the  resounding 
sea  near  it  are  chanting.  Our  hearts  heard  a  voice  telling 
us  not  chiefly  of  death,  but  if  we  and  those  silent  sleepers 
were  true  soldiers  of  the  cross,  or  if  those  departed  sailors 
had  Jesus  for  their  pilot  over  life's  solemn  sea,  that  voice 
spoke  for  them  and  us  a  nobler  strain,  and  it  was  —  IMMOR- 
TALITY  

"  I  have  seen  many  a  marble  monument  and  visited  many 
a  beautiful  cemetery,  and  yet  confess  that  seldom  have  I  been 
more  touched  than  by  the  simple  memorial  erected  in  this 
one  consecrated  spot,  a  religious  oasis  in  war's  desert,  to  the 
memory  of  some  humble  private  soldier." 

Life  in  the  fortress  the  Chaplain  declares  is  not 
monotonous. 

"  There  is  always  some  war-tidings,  true  or  false,  to  stir  a 
ripple  on  the  sea  of  existence,  and  the  varied  drills,  dress- 
parades,  mountings  of  guard,  &c.,  furnish  sufficient  variety 
of  occupation.  Occasionally  the  booming  of  cannon  from 
Sewall's  Point,  or  from  the  rebel  encampment  almost  op- 
posite our  own,  give  our  soldiers  hope  that  the  enemy  will 
pay  us  a  visit,  when  their  reception  would  be  warm  indeed, 
and  of  such  a  nature  that  many  of  those  who  made  it  would 
never  return  to  their  own  homes. 

"  God  avert  unnecessary  bloodshed,  yet  if  attacked  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  praying  for  victory,  however  dear  the  cost 
to  us  or  our  foes.  Above  all,  may  our  cause  triumph,  and 
it  is  of  less  moment  how  many  of  us  die,  if  Liberty  and  Our 
Country  yet  live.  How  beautiful  is  the  scene  now  before 

10 


218  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

us !  The  Chesapeake,  with  its  gleaming  waters,  its  waves 
at  play  as  though  they  did  not  run  between  hostile  shores, 
both  of  which  they  kiss  and  lave  as  if  anxious  for  peace 
and  to  wash  out  the  stains  of  this  fratricidal  war.  Yester- 
day evening,  when  the  moon  was  shining  most  brightly,  I 
watched  the  gleaming  fires  on  the  hostile  shore.  How 
friendly  they  looked!  how  hospitable!  Yet,  had  I  or  any 
Massachusetts  man  shown  ourselves  within  range,  how  soon 
would  other  fires  have  flashed  forth  with  deadly  meaning, 
and  all  because  the  Old  Bay  State  loves  that  Union  which 
Virginia  once  was  united  with  her  in  forming  and  upholding, 
but  now  has  deserted  and  is  in  arms  to  overthrow." 

And  there  were  other  than  aesthetic  advantages  de- 
rived from  the  Chesapeake.  For  it 

"swarms  with  fish,  among  which  the  sea-trout  is  especially 
delicious.  Then,  too,  all  along  the  shore  are  large  beds  of 
Virginia  oysters,  and  great  quantities  of  crabs  and  other 
marine  delicacies,  which  the  contraband  population  bring  in 
for  us  abundantly  for  a  few  pennies." 

And  there  was  other  game,  though  exempt  from  the 
hunter. 

"  Walking  down  to  the  sea-shore  yesterday  morning,  I  was 
reminded,  as  often  lately,  of  the  great  abundance  of  wild-fowl 
in  the  vicinity.  Firing  is  not  allowed  near  the  fortress,  except 
for  military  reasons,  and  shot-guns  are  not  easily  procured  by 
those  who  would  go  at  a  proper  distance  from  the  lines.  The 
wild  ducks  appeared  fully  aware  of  their  immunity  from  Jan- 
ger,  and  would  float  saucily  up  almost  to  the  very  feet  m  the 
sentinels  pacing  the  shore  with  loaded  rifles,  and,  looking 
pertly  up,  swim  lazily  away.  Other  game  abounds  on  these 
long  heaths  and  in  the  forest,  but  is  equally  out  of  danger. 
Indeed,  wild-fowl  and  other  game  seem  to  seek  this  region, 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  219 

like  the  contrabands,  for  safety,  to  the  great  aggravation  of 
hunters  of  beasts,  birds,  and  men.  My  sympathies  are  with 
the  hunted,  not  hunters,  in  each  case,  and  I  am  glad  for  the 
immunity  which  the  wild-fowl  aud  the  forest  bird  and  the 
timid  hare  and  the  oppressed  black  man  here  enjoy." 

Winter,  for  a  while,  seems  loath  to  banish  the  sym- 
bols of  milder  seasons.  The  Chaplain  says  :  — 

"  It  seems  so  strange  to  read  of  an  accident  to  children 
skating  on  the  ice  in  Massachusetts,  and  to  hear  from  friends 
of  grand  sleighing  already  enjoyed  hi  some  portions  of  the 
good  old  Bay  State.  Here  the  waters  still  sparkle  and  gleam, 
unfettered  by  the  despotic  sway  of  Winter,  who  is  so  apt 
to  make  his  approach  felt  ere  he  be  fairly  seated  on  his  glit- 
tering, icy  throne.  I  still  bathe  almost  every  day,  when 
the  tide  is  at  its  height,  on  the  strand.  And  near  my  tent,  in 
Mr.  Segar's  orchard,  an  apple-tree  is  capriciously  covered 
with  untimely  but  beautiful  blossoms.  A  soldier  has  just 
passed  with  a  rose  in  his  hand,  gathered  in  the  open  air." 

Yet,  Winter's  forbearance  was  not  of  long  duration. 
The  Chaplain  writes :  —  . 

"  Our  first  snow-storm  came  last  evening.  As  in  the  war, 
so  in  the  season,  the  '  sunny  South '  seemed  gaining  the  first 
victories,  and  the  cold  North  had  been  repulsed  from  Virginia. 
The  Queen  of  the  South,  Summer,  was  reigning  hi  Virginia, 
in  place  of  the  Bang  of  the  North,  Winter,  to  whom  at  this 
season  dominion  of  right  belongs.  But  now  all  is  changed. 
Yesterday  morning  I  gathered  a  beautiful  bouquet  of  tea- 
roses,  Southern  flowers,  blooming  in  the  open  air.  But  last 
night  the  chilly  wind  blew,  then  came  sleet,  hail,  and  at  last 
snow,  and  lo !  Winter  had  come  ;  the  frozen  North  had  sub- 
dued the  sunny  South,  asserted  his  lawful  right  to  reign  at 
this  season,  even  in  the  Old  Dominion. 


220  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  I  confess  my  first  sympathies  had  been  with  the  Southern 
Queen,  Summer.  True,  she  had  no  right  to  stay  longer,  and 
claim  supremacy  in  December  ;  true,  her  kisses  were  deceit- 
ful, and  her  hot,  sultry  breath  had  caused  the  death  of  many 
a  brave  soldier  by  its  malarious  influence ;  but  still  she  was 
crowned  with  flowers  and  had  so  many  enchanting,  if  arrogant 
and  capricious  ways,  that  after  all  we  loved  her.  But  she  is 
vanquished  now ;  her  wreathed  wand  was  shivered  last  night 
when  it  ventured  to  try  its  strength  against  the  sceptre  of 
Winter,  who,  tardily,  but  sternly,  at  last  asserts  his  right  to 
reign.  And  beneficent,  if  austere,  is  his  sway ;  for  fever  yields 
at  once  and  flees  in  the  train  of  the  fugitive  Summer;  the 
stains  of  Virginia's  soil,  polluted  by  treason,  are  covered  over 
with  a  pure  white,  a  cold  and  snowy  mantle.  Yes,  Winter 
has  at  last  conquered  Summer,  even  here  on  Southern  soil, 
just  as  the  loyal  North  will  ultimately  conquer  the  rebellious 
South  in  this  strife  for  Union  and  Liberty. 

"  Well ;  Winter,  Bang  of  the  North,  thou  shalt  be  welcome, 
though  thy  aspect  be  cold  and  forbidding,  and  we  will  be 
loyal  subjects  of  thy  sway !  Farewell,  Queen  of  the  South, 
thy  reign  is  evidently  over ;  we  will  not  mourn  thy  depart- 
ure, for  with  thee  we  hope  fever  and  a  host  of  other  diseases 
and  ills  may  depart  also." 

Another  page  of  nature,  the  character  of  man,  fur- 
nished for  the  Chaplain  features  of  instruction  and 
interest.  He  thus  groups  some  of  the  points  of 
interest  on  Old  Point  Comfort :  — 

"  Leaving  my  tent  at  Camp  Hamilton,  on  horseback,  in 
company  with  a  few  friends,  we  were  much  impressed  with 
the  variety  presented  by  a  short  ride  in  the  vicinity.  Pass- 
ing through  the  German  regiment  (Max  Weber's  New  York 
Twentieth),  I  was  struck  with  the  neat  aspect  of  the  vast 
number  of  little  shanties,  with  which  the  soldiers  of  that 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  221 

thrifty  and  industrious  nation  have  supplied  the  place  of  the 
showy  but  cold  tents  with  which  they  have  been  provided. 
Their  camp  really  looks  like  a  smart  Western  village,  and 
yet  every  cabin  has  been  built  of  refuse  lumber  brought  from 
the  ruins  of  Hampton.  Internally  these  shanties  are  the 
pictures  of  neatness,  and  their  ingenious  arrangements  make 
you  realize  how  akin  the  Germans  are  in  many  notable 
respects  to  our  own  New-Englanders.  My  friends  alighted 
from  horseback,  and  entered  these  humble  substitutes  for 
houses,  and  were  much  gratified.  Almost  every  shanty  had 
a  few  pictures  on  the  wall,  or  at  least  a  wreath  of  evergreen, 
as  a  mark  of  taste  and  love  of  the  beautiful. 

"  Passing  through  this  camp,  we  next  entered  that  of  the 
Naval  Brigade.  It  hails  from  no  State,  but  claims  to  repre- 
sent the  Union,  its  officers  being  commissioned  directly  by 
the  President,  and  it  is  intended  for  land  or  sea  service  as 
the  exigency  may  require. 

"  As  we  pass  along,  we  leave  at  our  left  the  Chesapeake 
Female  Seminary,  with  its  noble  dome.  The  building  is 
owned  by  the  State  of  Virginia,  and  is  now  used  chiefly  as 
a  hospital  and  for  quarters  for  officers  and  some  of  their 
families. 

•  "  Still  farther,  the  fortress  rises  on  our  left,  with  its  frown- 
ing walls  and  its  many  cannon  peering  curiously  out  of  the 
portholes  at  the  passers-by,  and  ready  to  give  any  disloyal 
visitants  a  reception  more  warm  than  pleasant.  As  we  claim 
to  be  thoroughly  loyal,  they  have  no  voice  for  us,  though 
their  mouths  are  wide  open.  On  our  right  lie  a  large  num- 
ber of  gunboats,  transport  steamers,  schooners,  the  storeship 
Brandywine,  and,  more  beautiful  than  any  others,  the  flagship 
Minnesota  and  the  Roanoke." 

Of  a  high  military  character  at  Newport  News  he 
writes :  — 


222  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  It  was  my  privilege  to  visit  this  place  a  few  days  since 
and  see  that  tried  and  veteran  soldier,  General  Phelps,  who 
achieved  honorable  distinction  in  the  Mexican  war.  I  found 
him  unpretending,  affable,  and  every  inch  a  soldier.  He  is  a 
skilled  artillerist,  and  as  the  '  News '  is  strongly  intrenched, 
the  foe  would  meet  a  pretty  bloody  reception  should  they 
come.  The  entrenchments  are  provided  with  the  formidable 
Sawyer's  and  other  rifled  cannon,  which  would  deal  out  death 
by  wholesale  to  assailants.  The  remnant  of  the  regiment  of 
Ellsworth's  Zouaves  went  there  yesterday  morning.  They 
are  hard  boys,  and  may  fight  bravely,  but  I  am  more  and 
more  convinced  that  the  best  moral  men,  yes,  and  the  best 
Christians,  are  also  generally  the  best  and  most  reliable  and 
the  bravest  soldiers." 

And  in  the  humbler  walks  he  finds  those  to  com- 
mend. 

"  In  our  Holh'ston  company  (Company  B)  is  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Fiske,  a  former  resident  of  Georgia,  which  place  he 
quitted  abruptly  a  few  weeks  since,  not,  however,  until  he  had 
become  acquainted  with  the  beauties  of  the  only  law  which 
our  Southern  neighbors  seem  to  respect, — lynch  law.  He 
was  tarred  and  feathered,  and  treated  with  much  indignity* 
and  robbed  of  all  his  hard  earnings.  Fiske  had  never  been 
an  abolitionist,  nor  an  opponent  of  slavery,  though  not  hold- 
ing it  exactly  a  divine  institution.  His  only  crime  was  being 
a  native  of  Massachusetts  and  not  in  favor  of  rebellion.  He 
was  a  peaceful  man,  but  on  arriving  here,  at  once  enlisted  in 
our  regiment,  and  only  wishes  to  go  'way  down  South  to 
Dixie's  land,'  with  plenty  of  good  Massachusetts  soldiers  in 
his  company.  He  is  calm  now,  but  terribly  in  earnest  in  this 
strife,  and  with  no  personal  revenge  in  his  heart ;  yet  hates 
slavery,  —  the  fount  of  all  our  woes,  —  and  desires  to  see  an 
end  put  to  treason  and  rebellion  in  the  Southern  States." 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  223 

And  thus  lie  speaks  over  a  soldier's  grave  :  — 

"  Stuart  was  an  excellent  young  man,  and  died  willingly, 
trustfully,  feeling  that  he  was  giving  life  for  his  country. 
His  were  not  the  eclat  and  glory  of  death  on  the  battle- 
field; yet  his  life  was  no  less  an  offering  on  the  altar  of 
liberty.  His  humble  pine  coffin  was  followed  to  the  grave 
by  his  captain  and  his  company,  and  by  the  colonel  of  the 
regiment.  The  solemn  burial  rites  fitting  for  a  soldier  were 
performed  by  the  chaplain  of  the  regiment,  and  then  three 
volleys  of  musketry  were  fired  over  the  insatiate  grave  in 
which  we  had  placed  the  remains  of  him  who,  so  few  days 
since,  was  earnest  in  his  patriotic  zeal.  On  the  following 
Sabbath,  a  discourse  suggested  by  his  death,  yet  more  by  his 
life,  so  far  as  we  knew  it,  was  preached  by  the  chaplain  to  an 
attentive  regiment.  Massachusetts  —  yes,  and  America,  too 
—  will  write  on  her  heart  of  hearts  the  names  of  all  who,  in 
this  perilous  hour,  die  in  her  cause.  Names  the  most  humble 
shall  henceforth  become  glorious." 

He  finds  one,  too,  reminding  of  "  The  boy  stood  on 
the  burning  deck."  He  says :  — 

"  Just  as  I  was  leaving  Boston  a  lad  of  fifteen  appeared, 
with  proper  vouchers,  and  entreated  to  go  as  a  servant  in  the 
regiment.  His  father  had  been  major  in  the  regular  army, 
but  neither  father  nor  mother  nor  other  known  relative  of  his 
now  lived,  and  he  had  no  way  of  earning  honestly  his  bread. 
He  is  a  Boston  boy,  of  American  parentage,  and  from  one  of 
our  Suffolk  schools.  I  took  him,  finding  his  card  indorsed 
by  good  citizens,  though  not  specially  needing  his  services. 
On  arriving  at  this  encampment  I  was  called  to  the  city 
by  business,  and,  leaving  him  standing  in  front  of  the  head- 
quarters, told  him  to  stay  there  till  I  returned,  which  would 
be  before  long. 

"  Business  detained  me,  however,  and  knowing  the  boy 


224  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

would  have  every  kindness,  I  was  not  anxious  about  him. 
Returning  next  day  at  10  A.  M.  I  found  that  during  the 
rainy  night  he  had  stood  at  his  post,  refusing  to  leave  it, 
because  his  orders  were  to  the  contrary.  He  had  not  gone 
in  to  supper,  nor  did  he  leave,  though  without  an  overcoat, 
when  the  rain-storm  came  on,  till,  falling  asleep,  he  was 
carried  in  by  one  of  the  servants.  That  is  a  boy  who 
'  obeys  orders,'  and  will  make  a  good  soldier.  I  had  never 
dreamed  of  being  obeyed  so  literally,  but  confess  I  was 
pleased  with  the  implicit  obedience  of  this  little  soldier's 
orphan." 

The  fortress  furnished  melancholy  spectacles. 

"  At  the  fortress  wharf  here,  on  that  same  Friday,  we  saw 
fifty-seven  patriotic  and  brave  men  who  were  wounded  and 
captured  by  the  enemy  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run.  0  what 
a  scene  it  was,  —  those  poor  mangled,  wounded,  half-starved 
sufferers !  There  was  a  young  man  who  had  lost  a  limb ; 
and  another  whose  whole  existence  must  be  a  living  agony, 
a  dying  by  inches ;  yet  only  after  long  years  may  he  be  so 
privileged  as  to  '  sleep  well,  life's  fitful  fever  over.'  May 
their  grateful  country  not  wait  till  the  grave  closes  over 
those  maimed  and  sickly  forms,  ere  she  does  them  what 
slender  justice  she  can.  And  may  the  kindness  of  home, 
and  the  sunshine  of  loved  faces,  and  the  music  of  friendly 
voices  restore  to  health  some  of  these  who  must  soon  have 
died,  surrounded  as  they  were  in  their  gloomy  prison-house 
by  the  foes  of  human  liberty,  who  scowled  their  hatred  of 
its  defenders,  and  uttered  only  harsh  words  to  these  brave 
men  who  had  poured  forth  their  blood  as  a  libation  on  Free- 
dom's altar." 

Sights  more  cheering  sometimes  are  met  on  the 
shore. 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  225 

"  The  sun,  which  was  veiled  in  clouds  on  Saturday,  shone 
again  on  the  Sabbath. 

"  "Well  it  might,  for  it  seldom  has  looked  upon  a  gladder 
scene  than  its  setting  rays  gilded  with  a  smile  of  holy  joy. 
At  that  hour  the  steamer,  which  had  been  up  to  Norfolk 
with  a  flag  of  truce,  returned,  laden  with  a  precious  freight, 
even  our  released  prisoners  from  Richmond  and  many  an- 
other house  of  Southern  bondage.  As  I  went  on  board,  I 
saw  Colonel  Lee,  Colonel  Cogswell,  Colonel  Wood,  Major 
Revere,  Captain  Keller,  and  over  three  hundred  other  brave 
officers  and  soldiers,  who  were  mostly  captured  in  the  cour- 
ageous and  sanguinary,  but  ineffectual,  fight  at  Ball's  Bluff. 
It  was  a  different  scene  from  what  I  expected,  less  noisy  and 
more  solemn,  fewer  '  hurrahs '  and  more  exclamations  of 
'  Bless  God  ! '  <  Bless  God ! '  Ay,  <  Bless  God,'  indeed ;  for 
Secretary  Stanton  spoke  a  truth  we  need  ever  remember, 
when  he  declared  that  to  Jehovah's  name,  and  not  chiefly  to 
any  man's,  belongeth  the  highest  glory.  Without  under- 
rating the  valor  of  our  brave  soldiers,  the  wise  strategy  of 
commanders  or  statesmen,  but  heaping  chaplets  on  their 
honored  brows,  we  would  at  the  same  time  remember  that 
'  His  right  hand  hath  gotten  us  the  victory.' " 

The  Chaplain  thus  describes  another  scene  :  — 

"  It  affords  a  pleasant  change  from  camp  scenes  to  go  a 
while  each  day  to  the  fortress,  and  especially  to  the  market- 
place, which  lies  just  without  its  walls  and  near  the  various 
steamboat  landings.  There  you  see  every  variety  of  men. 
Here  are  a  group  of  naval  officers,  with  their  round  caps  and 
broad  gold  bands  and  brilliant  uniforms.  They  are  talking 
over  a  theme  always  pleasant,  —  the  Hatteras  Inlet  victory, 
which  was  emphatically  a  naval  triumph,  although  the  brave 
German  soldiers  and  our  own  gallant  Butler  did  their  full 
part  in  its  achievement.  The  venerable  man  to  whom  they 
10*  o 


226  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

most  attentively  listen  when  he  speaks  is  the  brave  Commo- 
dore Stringham,  who,  to  the  regret  of  many,  is  to  be  trans- 
ferred from  this  command. 

"  Near  them  is  a  band  of  soldiers  eagerly  asking  whether 
they  are  not  to  have  lot  or  part  in  some  hazardous  expedi- 
tion for  their  country's  service  and  strike  a  blow  which  shall 
sink  Manasses  and  Bethel  beneath  the  sea  of  oblivion.  Pa- 
tience, brave  men,  you  will  not  long  remain  ungratified  in 
your  desire,  and  when  the  blow  is  struck,  may  it  be  so  strong- 
ly dealt,  so  surely  aimed,  that  under  it  rebellion  shall  reel  and 
stagger  to  her  final  overthrow.  You  notice  that  the  soldiers 
are  of  different  States,  but  chiefly  from  New  York  and  Mas- 
sachusetts, who  have  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  during  all 
this  warfare ;  of  different  nationalities,  too,  Germans,  Irish, 
Americans,  but  united  wholly  in  heart  and  mind,  and  all 
calling  America  their  fatherland,  for  whom  they  will  seek 
all  service  to  do,  and  in  her  cause,  if  must  be,  die. 

"  But  there  comes  a  file  of  men  who  do  not  look  so  eager 
and  expectant,  albeit  not  half  so  ill  as  I  had  pictured  such 
men  to  look.  These  are  captured  Secessionists,  who  have 
just  been  brought  here  to  try  the  invigorating  air  of  Old 
Point  Comfort.  That  row  is  just  from  Baltimore,  and  is 
composed  of  most  distinguished  and  gentlemanly,  but  bitter 
enemies  of  their  country.  For  them  I  have  no  sympathy ; 
they  deserve  none.  They  have  sinned  against  the  best 
and  most  lenient  government  upon  which  sun  ever  shone, 
and  have  sinned  knowingly,  and  because  of  personal  ambi- 
tion. 

"  That  other  file  of  prisoners,  and  we  have  one  or  two 
such  every  day,  is  more  deserving  of  pity ;  it  is  composed  of 
ignorant  men,  misled  by  leaders  like  the  first  class  of  rebels 
who  just  passed  us." 

The  Chaplain  had  an  interview  with  some  released 
rebels,  which  lie  thus  describes  :  — 


FORTKESS  INCIDENTS.  227 

"  While  I  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  Roncoos,  as  our  flag-of- 
truce  boat  is  named,  there  came  upon  deck  a  young  man, 
dressed  in  full  uniform  as  a  naval  officer,  who  touched  his 
hat  courteously  to  me,  and  called  me  by  name.  I  did  not 
recognize  him,  but,  stepping  aside  to  speak  with  him,  was 
introduced  to  a  captain  and  lieutenant,  also  in  full  naval 
rig,  with  swords  by  their  sides.  After  customary  words  of 
introduction,  my  new  friend  said :  '  Well,  it  seems  good  to  get 
on  the  water  again.'  '  Ah,'  I  said,  '  you  have  not  been  with 
your  ship  lately.'  '  No,'  was  the  reply, '  I  had  other  duties.' 
'  Well,  sir,'  I  remarked,  '  it  is  to  you  naval  gentlemen  that 
the  country  is  now  looking  to  strike  terror  to  the  hearts  of 
the  Secessionists  and  crush  out  rebellion.'  '  Sir,'  they  replied, 
in  a  loud  chorus,  *  we  have  resigned.'  '  Indeed,'  was  my  re- 
sponse, '  I  am  sorry  you  should  be  out  of  health  at  a  time 
when  so  many  important  naval  expeditions  are  on  foot.' 
'  That  is  n't  our  reason.'  I  turned  the  conversation  a  little, 
somewhat  enlightened,  but  still  not  willing  to  believe  that 
these  gentlemen,  wearing  Uncle  Sam's  uniform,  were  yet 
ready  to  fight  against,  but  not  for,  a  government  whose  cash 
they  have  long  drawn  as  salary.  'Are  you  from  Boston, 
gentlemen  ? '  '  Just  arrived  from  there.'  '  How  do  things 
look  in  the  good  old  city  ? '  '  We  went  about  but  very  little.' 
'What  part  of  the  city  did  you  stop  in?'  '  We  have  been 
residing  for  the  last  few  months  in  Fort  Warren,  in  Boston 
Harbor]  was  their  answer.  We  all  laughed.  Then  and 
during  the  rest  of  our  conversation  we  better  understood 
one  another.  My  new-found  acquaintance  it  appeared  had 
seen  me  in  Boston  a  few  years  ago,  and  remembered  me, 
though  I  had  forgotten  him." 

In  the  Fortress,  the  Chaplain  was  under  a  new 
regime,  the  law  martial ;  a  change  not  so  noticeable  to 
those  who  were  a  law  to  themselves,  but  of  necessary- 
severity  with  delinquents.  He  writes  :  — 


228  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  My  heart  is  sad  amid  these  beautiful  Virginia  scenes ; 
and  war's  dread  array  has  as  yet  presented  to  me  no  sight  so 
sorrowful  as  our  regimental  guard-tent  exhibits ;  for  within 
those  canvas  walls  are  two  men  sentenced  to  be  shot. 

"  Do  you  ask  the  crime  of  these  men,  whom  the  court- 
martial  has  thus  sentenced  to  a  summary  execution  ?  I 
answer,  a  very  heinous  one  in  military  eyes,  and  rightly  so 
regarded,  yet  not  necessarily  involving  moral  obliquity, — 
it  is  sleeping  on  their  post  as  sentinels  at  night.  This  en- 
dangers the  whole  army,  and  the  sacred  cause  for  which  we 
are  contending;  and  unless  extenuating  circumstances  ap- 
pear, death  is  the  awful  yet  righteous  penalty.  Still  we 
cannot  refrain  from  deeply  sympathizing  with  those  whose 
offence  implies  no  malice,  only  that  negligence  and  lack  of 
watchfulness  often  equally  pernicious  and  fatal  to  ourselves 
and  others.  But  whatever  my  judgment  says,  my  heart 
pleads  for  these  men,  —  pleads  for  them  before  the  tribunal 
of  God,  and  will  induce  me  to  plead  for  them  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  men ;  and  I  cannot  but  hope  and  pray  for  that  one 
sweet  word  which  all  we  sinful  mortals  need,  —  PARDON  !"  * 

The  capture  of  two  arch-traitors  caused  joy  at  the 
fortress.  The  Chaplain  says  :  — 

"  It  is  they,  and  such  as  they,  who  have  brought  upon  this 
State  and  our  whole  country  sorrow  and  the  sufferings  of 
civil  war.  A  friend  near  me  suggests  that  he,  for  one,  is 
glad  that  the  Virginia  '  architect  of  ruin '  is  no  longer  a  free 
Mason;  and  those  who  know  Slidell  assert  that  he  is  even 
more  inclined  to  all  political  evil  and  crime  than  his  Virginia 
confederate  in  treason.  It  seems  strange  to  us  Massachusetts 
soldiers,  far  away  from  home,  defending  our  institutions  and 
liberties,  to  hear  of  citizens  of  Boston  furnishing  these  plo1> 
ters  of  disunion  and  avowed  enemies  of  our  government  with 

*  The  sentence  of  these  men  was  commuted. 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  229 

every  luxury.  We  endure  hardships  and  privations  cheer- 
fully ;  we  desire  no  unnecessary  severity  towards  these  men 
who  are  largely  the  cause  of  our  hardships,  but  we  believe 
our  government  and  State  and  citizens  have  done  enough, 
and  all  that  is  honorable  to  themselves,  when  they  treat  as 
well  and  make  as  comfortable  these  rebel  prisoners  as  they 
treat  and  make  their  loyal  soldiery. 

"  By  the  way,  if  Mr.  Mason  now  visits  Massachusetts,  and 
more  especially  Fort  Warren,  will  he  go  'as  an  ambassa- 
dor,' as  he  once  promised  Mr.  Winthrop  ?  " 

Of  their  release  he  says  :  — 

"  I  find  but  one  opinion  in  this  division  of  the  loyal  army 
in  reference  to  the  surrender  of  Mason  and  Slidell.  It  is  of 
reluctant  but  entire  acquiescence.  Their  fangs  are  drawn ; 
let  the  serpents  go.  They  are  harmless,  save  to  their  friends 
in  rebeldom  or  Great  Britain." 

Of  the  preparation  of  the  expedition  which  cap- 
tured Beaufort  he  says  :  — 

"  On  returning  to  the  fortress,  I  found  the  harbor  and 
vicinity  one  forest  of  masts.  Interspersed  among  these  were 
the  smoke-pipes  of  a  countless  throng  of  steamers.  The 
decks  of  both  ships  and  steamers  were  alive  with  armed 
men,  —  soldiers  and  marines.  At  night  the  scene  was  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  that  human  eye  can  ever  see.  Innu- 
merable lights  gleamed  from  every  deck,  and  were  reflected 
from  the  waters,  glancing  and  sparkling  as  the  light  waves 
played ;  strains  of  patriotic  music  arose  from  the  bands  or 
from  human  voices,  and  were  wafted  in  sweet  cadence  to 
the  shores.  O,  with  what  pride  and  joy,  with  what  an  in- 
finitude of  hope,  and  yet  a  blending  of  anxiety,  did  every 
patriot  look  on  that  floating  city  beneath  our  fortress  walls ! 
How  often  have  we  expected  it  to  sail  during  those  radiant, 


230  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

serene  days  and  still  October  nights,  when  all  seemed  so 
auspicious,  and  every  morning  we  looked,  thinking,  half 
hoping,  that,  in  the  silence  of  the  night  just  gone,  those  white 
sails  would  have  been  spread  like  the  wings  of  sea-birds,  and 
those  vessels  have  glided  away,  followed  by  the  laboring 
steamers  as  companions,  on  their  mission  of  peace  to  loyal 
men,  of  death  to  traitors.  But  those  anticipations  were  long 
disappointed,  until  at  last,  in  the  gray  mists  of  morning,  that 
marine  city  did  melt  away  like  a  night  vision,  and  we  saw  it 
sweep  out  of  the  harbor  with  the  mists,  and  followed  it  with 
our  prayers  and  our  blessings.  A  few  hours  sufficed  to  hoist 
every  anchor  and  set  every  sail ;  and  when  we  looked  anew 
at  those  placid  waters,  the  fleet  which  had  ridden  safely  upon 
them  was  gone,  —  where  could  only  be  conjectured,  and  con- 
jectures, let  me  assure  you,  were  numberless,. save  among  the 
very  few  who  believed  they  knew." 

He  thus  alludes  to  the  dreadful  tempest  which  suc- 
ceeded the  departure  of  the  expedition :  — 

"  Scarce  a  day  had  passed  after  the  fleet  had  left  our 
waters,  when  the  sky,  which  had  been  so  cloudless  and  azure, 
became  overcast,  and  the  still  waters  were  lashed  to  fury  by 
a  fierce  wind.  All  night  it  blew ;  it  prostrated  many  of  the 
humble  tents  in  our  canvas  city,  and  kept  cold  and  comfort- 
less the  inmates  of  them  all ;  but  I  think  few  thought  much 
of  personal  discomfort  in  comparison  with  the  great  interests 
we  felt  were  imperilled  by  the  unwelcome  storm.  But  that 
night  of  wind  and  tumult  was  as  nothing  when  considered  in 
relation  to  the  driving,  furious  tempest  of  Friday  and  Satur- 
day last.  It  did  seem  as  though  the  powers  of  light  and 
darkness  were  striving  for  the  victory,  and  the  latter  were 
Hkely  to  get  the  better  in  the  contest,  or  as  if  the  very  ele- 
ments of  nature  were  assaulting  one  another,  ^nd  earth,  sea, 
and  air  were  mingling  in  an  indiscriminate  strife,  the  result 


FORTRESS  INCIDENTS.  231 

of  which  to  us  poor  half-drowned  denizens  of  the  tented  field 
was  a  very  doubtful  one.  All  Friday  night  the  winds  howled 
over  sea  and  main,  and  torrents  of  rain  fell,  or  rather  beat 
upon  sea  and  shore,  and  when  morning  came  the  white-crested 
waves  were  rushing  upon  the  beach  like  plumed  squadrons  to 
the  battle.  Throughout  the  whole  day  the  storm  continued, 
till  our  anxieties  for  the  fleet,  freighted  with  a  nation's  des- 
tinies, reached  a  climax.  Still  we  had  one  resource,  —  we 
could  do  nothing  in  our  human  powerlessness  to  aid,  but  we 
could  look  to  Him  who  rules  winds  and  waves,  and  know  that 
He  who  doeth  all  things  well  could  and  would  care  for  that 
fleet,  and  give  it  both  protection  and  a  prosperous  event  to  its 
undertaking,  if  in  his  wisdom  that  were  best  for  the  welfare 
of  our  country  and  humanity.  And  never  have  I  heard  more 
fervent  prayers  than  those  which  have  arisen  from  the  sol- 
diers at  our  humble  prayer-meetings,  as  they  invoked  Heav- 
en's blessing  on  the  great  expedition." 

Every  hour  and  scene  were  liable  to  martial  inter- 
ruption, and  the  frowning  fortress  was  obliged,  like 
the  Eastern  sage,  to  sleep  with  the  eyes  open.  Of 
such  an  interruption,  while  religious  services  were  in 
progress,  the  Chaplain  writes :  — 

"  We  worship,  as  did  our  Pilgrim  Fathers,  with  arms  in 
our  hands,  ready  to  pray  or  fight,  as  God  and  duty  may 
require,  and  believing  one  not  inconsistent  with  the  other 
in  a  holy  cause,  such  as  is  our  country's.  A  portion  of  our 
regiment  immediately  proceeded  to  the  scene  of  action,  de- 
termined, if  the  enemy  would  desecrate  the  Sabbath  by  an 
attack,  we  would  consecrate  '  Forefather's  Day '  with  a  vic- 
tory. But  the  enemy  were  repulsed  ere  our  companies 
reached  the  field,  and  I  met  the  ambulances  bringing  back 
four  wounded  men  of  the  German  Twentieth  New  York 
Regiment,  our  neighbors.  Eight  or  ten  of  the  rebels  were 


232  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

killed,  but  the  foe  saved  themselves  from  further  loss  by 
retreating  at  the  tenth  volley.  The  enemy's  force  consisted 
of  one  regiment  of  infantry  and  one  company  of  cavalry. 
Many  colored  men  were  in  the  enemy's  ranks,  the  rebels 
having  no  tender  scruples  about  arming  the  slaves.  The 
number  of  the  rebel  wounded  is  not  known.  None  of  our 
men  were  killed." 

The  Rebels,  having  now  got  their  Merrimac  nearly 
or  quite  ready  for  action,  begin  to  be  confident  upon 
the  water.  The  Chaplain  writes  :  — 

"  Quite  a  saucy  thing  was  done  by  a  little  rebel  steamer 
from  Sewall's  Point,  opposite  our  camp,  on  Sunday  last. 
The  attempt  made  was  to  capture  our  mail  and  transport 
steamer,  the  Express,  which  plies  daily  between  the  fortress 
and  Newport  News.  The  Express  at  the  time  was  towing 
an  old  schooner,  the  Sherwood,  owned  by  Assistant-Quarter- 
master Noyes,  and  having  on  board  twelve  hundred  gallons 
of  good  pure  cold  water  for  the  supply  of  the  naval  vessels, 
good  water  not  being  easily  procured  at  the  fortress.  The 
shells  of  the  rebel  steamer  all  passed  over  the  Express, 
but  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  cut  adrift  the  schooner  and 
abandon  her  to  the  enemy.  The  contrabands  on  board  the 
schooner  abandoned  her,  taking  the  yawl-boat  and  escaping 
to  the  shore,  the  captain,  however,  remaining  on  board,  and 
refusing  to  leave  the  schooner.  Meanwhile,  but  very  slowly 
as  it  appeared  to  us  who  were  witnessing  the  matter  on  the 
shore,  the  federal  gunboats  steamed  up  and  sailed  after  the 
rebel  adventurer.  They  were  unsuccessful  in  overtaking 
her,  but  poured  their  shells  about  her  in  a  fiery  storm 
of  thunderbolts.  One  of  our  armed  ferry-boats  pursued  the 
enemy  almost  to  Sewall's  Point,  running  the  gantlet  between 
the  batteries  there  and  on  Craney  Island.  We  temperance 
men  were  rather  rejoicing  to  think  that  the  rebels  had  now  a 


MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR.          233 

good  supply  of  pure  cold  water,  —  an  article  whose  use  they 
appear  lately  to  have  abandoned;  but  I  learn  to-day  that 
the  schooner  sunk  when  near  port,  having  been  riddled  with 
our  balls.  Our  gunboats  at  last  ceased  the  chase,  but  shelled 
the  rebel  camp  on  Craney  Island,  with  what  success  can  only 
be  conjectured  by  us." 

And  now  occurred  the  greatest  naval  engagement 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  not  only  in  view  of  the 
novelty  of  the  combat  and  the  incalculable  issue  imme- 
diately at  stake,  but  because  its  result  went  far  to 
settle  the  question  of  foreign  intervention.  Wooden 
walls  would  henceforth  avail  little  in  maritime  warfare, 
and  ships  in  the  heavy  iron  armor  which  would  be 
requisite  must  incur  the  utmost  hazard  in  a  long  voy- 
age over  a  tempest-breeding  sea. 

Our  Chaplain  was  one  of  the  few  eyewitnesses,  if 
not  the  only  one,  who  has  given  the  full  particulars 
of  this  event.  He  thus  describes  it  under  date  of 
March  15th,  1862:  — 

"  The  past  week  has  indeed  been  an  exciting  one  here. 
The  dulness  and  monotony  of  camp  life  have  been  ex- 
changed for  the  sounds  of  the  stirring  drum,  of  men  march- 
ing in  battle  array  to  meet  any  land  force  which  might 
second  the  naval  armament  arrayed  against  us,  and  for  the 
flash  and  roar  of  the  cannon  upon  our  shores.  I  have  been 
a  witness  of  the  entire  naval  contest ;  our  signal  defeat  at 
first,  our  splendid  triumph  at  the  last.  Never  have  I  known 
such  alternations  of  feeling  as  this  last  week  has  brought  to 
me.  I  have  seen  the  proud  American  flag  struck  and  hum- 
bled, and  over  it  the  white  signal  of  surrender  to  a  rebel 
steamer  waving,  and  my  heart  sank  within  me  for  shame, 
and  then  came  emotions  of  stern  resentment,  and  longing  to 


234  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

see  the  affront  avenged.  I  have  seen  that  exultant  rebel 
steamer  humbled  in  her  turn  before  the  little  Monitor,  and 
the  fierce  flame-breathing  monster  towed  disabled  away  to 
his  den,  and  then  came  a  feeling  of  exultation,  say  rather  of 
gratitude  to  God,  whose  providence  alone  sent  that  deliver- 
ance, which  no  language  is  adequate  to  express.  Let  me 
now  briefly  recount  events  of  remarkable  interest,  avoiding 
the  trite  details  already  before  the  public,  and  narrating 
things  as  I  saw  them.  The  like  of  this  naval  engagement, 
in  many  respects,  the  world  never  saw  before ;  the  tremen- 
dous interests  which  hung  upon  the  issue  have  never  been 
exceeded ;  and  each  witness  is  bound  to  give  his  testimony, 
and  give  it  impartially. 

"  Never  has  a  brighter  day  smiled  upon  Old  Virginia  than 
last  Saturday.  The  hours  crept  lazily  along,  and  sea  and 
shore  in  this  region  saw  nothing  to  vary  the  monotony  of  the 
scene.  Now  and  then  a  soldier  might  be  heard  complaining 
that  this  detachment  of  the  loyal  army  was  having  no  part  in 
the  glorious  victories  which  everywhere  else  are  crowning 
American  valor  with  such  brilliant  success ;  or  a  sailor  might 
be  noted  on  shipboard  telling  how  much  he  hoped  the  Hem- 
mac  would  show  herself,  and  how  certainly  she  would  be 
sunk  by  our  war  vessels  or  land  guns  if  she  dared  make  her 
appearance.  At  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  scene  changed. 
Two  strangely-clad  steamers  appeared  above  Newport  News, 
coming  down  the  river,  and  a  mysterious  monster  —  half  ship, 
half  house  —  came  slowly  steaming  from  Norfolk.  We  did 
not  know,  but  we  all  felt,  that  the  latter  was  the  Merrimac. 
Your  correspondent  at  once  went  to  the  large  seminary  build- 
ing on  the  shore,  about  two  miles  from  the  fortress,  and  so 
much  nearer  Newport  News,  and  with  an  excellent  spyglass 
could  see  distinctly  every  movement  made.  The  engagement 
was  a  brief  one,  and  as  terrible  and  disastrous  as  brief.  The 
Merrimac  is  a  slow  sailer,  but  she  steamed  steadily  toward 


MERRIMAC  AND   MONITOR.  235 

Newport  News,  and  at  once  attacked  the  Cumberland.  There 
can  never  be  a  braver  defence  than  the  officers  and  sailors  of 
that  frigate  made.  They  fought  long  after  resistance  was 
hopeless ;  they  never  surrendered,  even  when  the  water  was 
filled  with  drowning  men,  and  the  fast  disappearing  decks 
were  slippery  with  blood ;  but  all  was  in  vain.  With  terri- 
ble and  resistless  force  the  Merrimac  steamed  at  the  doomed 
vessel,  and  pierced  her  side  with  her  immense  iron  beak,  at 
the  same  time  firing  her  heavy  guns  directly  through  her 
antagonist.  The  noble  Cumberland  soon  sunk,  and  her  sail- 
ors who  were  yet  alive  sought  safety  in  the  masts  yet  above 
water,  or  by  swimming  to  the  shore. 

"  Meanwhile  the  Congress  had  been  fired  upon  by  the  rebel 
steamers  Yorktown  and  Jamestown,  and  also  by  the  tug-boats 
which  accompanied  the  Merrimac.  She  had  got  as  near  the 
shore  as  possible ;  but  when  the  iron  monster  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  her,  she  was  soon  obliged  to  surrender.  O  how  bitterly 
we  all  felt  the  humiliation  of  seeing  the  white  flag  rising  to 
the  mast-head  above  the  stars  and  stripes.  I  am  afraid  I  felt 
hardly  like  a  Christian  for  the  moment,  if  indeed  a  longing 
for  vengeance  upon  my  country's  enemies  be  unchristian.  I 
would  have  given  all  I  possessed  to  see  that  accursed  tyrant 
of  the  seas,  with  the  rebel  pennant  defiantly  flying,  sunk  be- 
side her  victim,  the  noble  Cumberland.  But  it  was  not  so  to 
be.  We  looked  for  the  Minnesota  and  Roanoke,  our  helpers 
in  the  strife,  the  first  our  main  dependence,  and  lo !  both 
were  aground  and  helpless  in  that  fearful  hour  !  It  was  well, 
for  sure  as  they  had  floated,  and  the  Merrimac  could  have 
come  at  them,  they,  too,  must  have  been  sunk  or  captured. 
The  Merrimac  draws  more  water  than  either  of  them.  It 
did  seem  strange,  though,  that  such  a  mishap  should  have 
chanced  to  both  of  these  steam  frigates,  whose  pilots  ought 
to  have  been  so  familiar  with  the  channel ;  but  the  Roanoke 
for  six  months  has  lain  in  these  waters  with  a  broken  shaft, 


236  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

which  renders  her  helpless,  and  the  former  pilot  of  the  Min- 
nesota had  just  given  way  to  another  and  less  experienced 
man.  It  was  all  overruled  for  good. 

"  The  Merrimac  now  threw  her  balls  thick  and  fast  and 
heavy  upon  the  camps  at  Newport  News.  Strange  to  say 
none  of  these  shot  or  shell  did  any  material  damage,  though 
one  of  them  passed  directly  through  General  Mansfield's 
quarters,  made  wild  work  with  his  room,  covered  the  Gen- 
eral with  splinters  of  wood,  and  had  it  exploded  must  have 
killed  him.  I  saw  the  shell  next  day,  and  conversed  with 
the  General  with  reference  to  it.  He  has  it  in  his  apart- 
ment. It  weighed  forty-two  pounds;  another  by  its  side, 
also  sent  from  the  Merrimac,  weighed  ninety-two.  The 
shells  were  rather  badly  aimed,  and  most  of  them  went  into 
the  woods,  cutting  off  tops  of  trees  as  they  fell ;  but  fortu- 
nately, nay,  providentially,  harming  no  one  of  the  soldiery  or 
the  fleeing  women  and  children  and  contrabands.  A  little 
tug  had  been  sent  meanwhile  from  the  Merrimac  to  the  Con- 
gress to  take  off  the  prisoners ;  but  this  tug  was  a  mark  for 
the  sharpshooters  from  the  shore  and  from  the  land  batteries, 
which  had  been  admirably  served  under  General  Mansfield's 
skilful  direction,  and  frightened  the  Yorktown  and  James- 
town and  the  little  rebel  gunboats  from  landing  their  forces. 
The  officers  of  the  Congress  and  most  of.  the  sailors  who  were 
not  killed,  all  save  twenty-three,  escaped  to  the  shore ;  and 
the  Merrimac,  damaged  but  not  disabled  by  the  Cumberland's 
broadsides,  with  her  commander  wounded  and  several  men 
killed,  retired  from  the  conflict,  giving  a  few  passing  shots  at 
the  Minnesota,  but  reserving  her  case  till  the  morrow,  and 
slowly  steaming  up  to  Norfolk,  accompanied  by  the  James^ 
town,  Yorktown,  and  the  smaller  rebel  craft. 

"  That  morrow  !  How  anxiously  we  waited  for  it !  How 
much  we  feared  its  results !  How  anxious  our  Saturday  eve 
of  preparation !  At  sundown  there  was  nothing  to  dispute 


MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR.          237 

the  empire  of  the  seas  with  the  Merrimac,  and  had  a  land 
attack  been  made  by  Magruder  then,  God  only  knows  what 
"our  fate  would  have  been.  The  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Min- 
nesota aground  and  helpless !  the  Roanoke  with  a  broken 
shaft,  —  these  were  our  defences  by  sea,  —  while  on  land  we 
were  doing  all  possible  to  resist  a  night  invasion ;  but  who 
could  hope  that  would  have  much  efficiency !  O  what  a 
night  that  was !  I  never  can  forget  it.  There  was  no  fear 
during  its  long  hours,  —  danger,  I  find,  does  not  bring  that, 
—  but  there  was  a  longing  for  some  interposition  of  God  and 
waiting  upon  him,  from  whom  we  felt  our  help  must  come,  in 
earnest,  fervent  prayer,  while  not  neglecting  all  the  means 
of  martial  defence  he  had  placed  in  our  hands.  Fugitives 
from  Newport  News  kept  arriving ;  ladies  and  children  had 
walked  the  long  ten  miles  from  Newport  News,  feeling  that 
their  presence  only  embarrassed  their  brave  husbands.  Sail- 
ors from  the  Congress  and  Cumberland  came,  one  of  them 
with  his  ship's  flag  bound  about  his  waist  as  he  swam  with 
it  ashore,  determined  the  enemy  should  never  trail  it  in 
dishonor  as  a  trophy.  Dusky  fugitives,  the  contrabands, 
came  mournfully  fleeing  from  a  fate  worse  than  death, — 
slavery.  These  entered  my  cabin  hungry  and  weary,  or 
passed  it  in  long,  sad  procession.  The  heavens  were  aflame 
with  the  burning  Congress.  The  hotel  was  crowded  with 
fugitives,  and  private  hospitality  was  taxed  to  the  utmost. 
But  there  were  no  soldiers  among  the  flying  host ;  all  in  our 
camps  at  Newport  News  and  Camp  Hamilton  were  at  the 
post  of  duty,  undismayed  and  ready  to  do  all  and  dare  all  for 
their  country.  The  sailors  came  only  to  seek  another  chance 
at  the  enemy,  since  the  bold  Cumberland  had  gone  down  in 
the  deep  waters  and  the  Congress  had  gone  upward,  as  if 
a  chariot  of  fire,  to  convey  the  manly  souls  whose  bodies 
had  perished  in  that  conflict  upward  to  heaven.  I  had  lost 
several  friends  there;  yet  not  lost,  for  they  are  saved  who 


CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

do  their  duty  to  their  country  and  their  God,  as  these  had 
done. 

"  We  did  not  pray  in  vain. 

'  The  heavy  night  hung  dark  the  hills  and  waters  o'er  ' ; 

but  the  night  was  not  half  so  heavy  as  our  hearts,  nor  so  dark 
as  our  prospects.  All  at  once  a  speck  of  light  gleamed  on 
the  distant  wave ;  it  moved,  it  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at 
ten  o'clock  at  night  the  Monitor  appeared.  '  When  the  tale 
of  bricks  is  doubted,  Moses  comes.'  I  never  more  firmly  be- 
lieved in  special  providences  than  at  that  hour.  Even  sceptics 
for  the  moment  were  converted,  and  said,  '  God  has  sent  her!' 
But  how  insignificant  she  looked !  she  was  but  a  speck  on  the 
dark  blue  sea  at  night,  almost  a  laughable  object  by  day. 
The  enemy  call  her  a  '  cheese-box  on  a  raft,'  and  the  com- 
parison is  a  good  one.  Could  she  meet  the  Merrimac  ?  The 
morrow  must  determine,  for,  under  God,  the  Monitor  is  our 
only  hope. 

"  The  morrow  came,  and  with  it  came  the  inevitable  bat- 
tle between  those  strange  combatants,  the  Merrimac  and 
the  Monitor.  What  a  lovely  Sabbath  it  was ;  how  peace- 
ful and  balmy  that  Southern  spring  morning  !  Smiling 
nature  whispered  only  'peace,'  but  fierce  treason  breathed 
out  threatenings  and  slaughter,  and  would  have  war.  Nor 
would  the  rebels  respect  the  Sabbath ;  they  know  no  doctrine 
but  Slavery,  no  duty  but  obedience  to  her  bloody  behests. 
War  let  it  be,  then,  since  wicked  men  so  determine,  and  we 
have  no  alternative  but  shameful  surrender  of  truth  and  eter- 
nal justice.  The  guilt  of  violating  God's  Sabbath  be  upon 
the  heads  of  those  who  will  do  it,  —  we  may  not,  indeed  can- 
not, shrink  from  the  terrible  ordeal  of  battle.  And  soon  it 
comes.  At  nine  o'clock  A.  M.,  the  Merrimac,  attended  by 
her  consorts,  the  war-steamers  Jamestown  and  Yorktown,  and 
a  fleet  of  little  tug-boats,  crowded  with  ladies  and  gentlemen 


MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR.          239 

from  Norfolk  who  were  desirous  of  seeing  the  Minnesota  cap- 
tured, and,  perhaps  even  Fort  Monroe  taken,  certainly  all  its 
outlying  vessels  and  the  houses  in  its  environs  burnt. 

"  The  little  Monitor  lay  concealed  in  the  shadow  of  the  Min- 
nesota. The  Merrimac  opens  the  conflict,  and  her  guns  shake 
the  sea  and  air  as  they  breathe  out  shot  and  flame.  Sewall's 
Point  sends  from  its  mortars  shell  which  burst  in  the  air 
above  the  doomed  Minnesota.  The  Minnesota,  still  aground, 
replies  with  a  bold  but  ineffectual  broadside.  All  promises 
an  easy  victory  to  the  Merrimac,  when  lo  !  the  little  Monitor 
steams  gently  out  and  offers  the  monster  Merrimac  battle. 
How  puny,  how  contemptible  she  seemed !  nothing  but  that 
little  round  tub  appearing  above  the  water,  and  yet  flinging 
down  the  gage  of  defiance  to  the  gigantic  Merrimac.  It  was 
little  David  challenging  the  giant  Goliath  once  again,  —  the 
little  one  the  hope  of  Israel,  the  giant  the  pride  of  the  hea- 
then Philistines.  Truly  our  hopes  were  dim  and  our  hearts 
almost  faint  for  the  moment.  The  few  men  on  the  Monitor 
are  sea  and  storm  worn  and  weary  enough,  and  their  little 
craft  is  an  experiment,  with  only  two  guns  with  which  to 
answer  the  Merrimac's  many.  Who  can  doubt  the  issue  ? 
who  believe  the  Monitor  can  fail  to  be  defeated?  And  if 
she  is,  what  is  to  hinder  the  victorious  and  unopposed  and 
unopposable  Merrimac  from  opening  the  blockade  of  the  coast, 
or  shelling  Washington,  New  York,  and  Boston,  after  first 
devastating  our  camp  and  destroying  its  soldiery  ?  That 
was  the  issue  ;  such  might  have  been  the  result,  smile  now 
who  will.  Believe  me,  there  were  prayers  offered,  many  and 
fervent,  that  Sabbath,  along  the  shore  and  from  the  fortress 
walls,  as  our  regiment  watched  the  battle,  and  sailors  must 
have  prayed,  too,  as  never  before. 

"  The  Merrimac,  after  a  few  minutes  of  astounded  silence, 
opened  the  contest.  She  tried  to  sink  her  puny  foe  at  once 
by  a  broadside,  and  be  no  longer  delayed  from  the  Minnesota, 


240  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

whose  capture  she  had  determined  upon.  After  the  smoke 
of  the  cannonade  had  cleared  away,  we  looked  fearing,  and 
the  crew  of  the  Merrimac  looked  hoping,  that  the  Monitor 
had  sunk  to  rise  no  more.  But  she  still  lived.  There  she 
was,  with  the  white  wreaths  of  smoke  crowning  her  tower,  as 
if  a  coronet  of  glory.  And  valiantly  she  returned  the  fire, 
too,  and  for  five  hours  such  a  lively  cannonading  as  was 
heard,  shaking  earth  and  sea,  was  never  heard  before.  Lit- 
erally, I  believe  that  never  have  ships  carrying  such  heavy 
guns  met  till  that  Sabbath  morning.  Every  manoeuvre  was 
exhausted  by  the  enemy.  The  Yorktown  approached  to 
mingle  in  the  fray.  One  shot  was  enough  to  send  her  quickly 
back,  a  lame  duck  upon  the  waters,  though  she,  too,  is  iron- 
clad. The  Merrimac  tried  to  run  the  Monitor  down,  and 
thus  sink  her ;  she  only  got  fiercer  shots  by  the  opportunity 
she  thus  gave  her  little  antagonist.  And  so  it  went  on  till 
the  proud  Merrimac,  disabled,  was  glad  to  retire,  and,  making 
signals  of  distress,  was  towed  away  by  her  sorrowing  consorts. 
David  had  conquered  Goliath  with  his  smooth  stones,  or 
wrought-iron  balls,  from  his  little  sling,  or  shot-tower.  Israel 
rejoiced  in  her  deliverance,  through  the  power  of  God,  who 
had  sent  that  little  champion  of  his  cause,  hi  our  direst  ex- 
tremity, to  the  battle.  Since  then  the  Merrimac  has  not 
shown  herself,  and  the  enemy  confess  her  disabled,  and  her 
commander,  Buchanan,  ominous  name,  severely  wounded, 
four  of  her  crew  killed,  and  seventeen  wounded.  They  ad- 
mit, too,  the  valor  of  our  seamen,  futile  though  it  was.  '  The 
Cumberland's  officers  and  crew,'  says  the  Norfolk  Day-Book, 
'  fought  worthy  of  a  better  cause ' ;  say,  rather,  worthy  of  the 
best  cause  in  the  world,  and  we  who  witnessed  the  fight  will 
agree  with  them. 

"  All  that  night,  as  well  as  the  previous  and  for  several 
succeeding,  our  regiments  were  under  arms.  I  will  not  detail 
the  precautions  taken  to  prevent  a  defeat  by  land,  as,  through 


MERRIMAC   AND   MONITOR.  241 

I 
the  providence  of  God,  an  ultimate  defeat  by  sea  has  been 

averted.  Few  of  us  slept  that  night,  and  had  we  done  so 
most  of  us  would  have  been  awakened  at  midnight  by  the 
fearful  cries  which  came  to  us  from  the  water,  '  Ship  ahoy !  O 
God,  save  us  !  Fire,  fire,  fire ! '  and  occasionally  a  heavy  cannon 
mingling  its  roar  with  those  fearful  cries.  I  rushed  to  the  shore, 
with  many  others,  and  then  a  little  distance  from  me  beheld 
the  gunboat  Whitehall  burning,  and  apparently  her  crew  per- 
ishing in  the  fire  or  drowning  in  the  waters  near.  It  was 
terrible,  all  the  more  so  as  we  could  do  nothing  to  aid,  no 
boat  being  near  our  camp.  The  balls  from  her  shotted  guns 
made  even  looking  on  dangerous ;  one  shell  struck  the  United 
States  Hospital  at  the  fort  and  caused  great  terror  among  the 
inmates,  all  of  whom  believed  for  a  while  that  the  Merrimac 
had  come  down  again  and  was  shelling  the  fort.  Only  four 
of  those  poor  seamen  perished  in  the  flames  or  water,  through 
the  mercy  of  God.  The  fire  came  from  a  shot  from  the  Mer- 
rimac, which  had  the  day  before  passed  through  the  White- 
hall and  left  a  little  spark  smouldering  unknown  within. 

"  Amid  all  these  events,  disastrous  or  merciful,  our  soldiers 
still  live,  the  fortress  yet  remains  unscathed,  and  the  Minne- 
sota and  Roanoke  and  St.  Lawrence,  though  the  first  two 
need  repairs,  yet  fly  the  old  flag  at  then:  mainmasts.  Above 
all,  the  little  Monitor  floats  in  triumph,  a  sentinel  on  the 
waters  and  a  strict  '  monitor '  over  the  rebels.  But  for  the 
wounding  of  her  noble  commander,  Lieutenant  Worden,  she 
would  have  pursued  and  sunk  the  Merrimac,  and  will  proba- 
bly do  so  if  another  encounter  occurs.  She  has  now  another 
noble  commander,  Lieutenant  T.  A.  Selfridge  of  Charles- 
town,  whom  I  have  known  from  his  boyhood,  and  know  to 
be  brave  and  worthy  of  the  proud  Old  Bay  State.  I  have 
visited  Newport  News,  and  mourned  there  the  death  of  the 
worthy  Chaplain  Lenhart  and  the  heroic  Captain  Moore, 
whom  I  saw  but  a  few  days  before,  and  talked  with  about  his 
11  p 


242  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

intended  visit  home  to  Boston.  But  while  I  have  mourned, 
I  have  also  rejoiced  over  our  camps,  in  which  none  were 
killed,  and  our  officers  and  sailors  so  many  of  whom  were 
rescued.  America  will  never  forget  that  battle.  It  will 
mark  an  era  in  the  history  of  the  navy.  It  has  taught  us  a 
useful  lesson,  and  henceforth  we  have  no  more  wooden  wall? 
as  our  reliance,  but  first  our  God  and  then  plates  of  steel,  and 
iron-clad  frigates  and  monitors." 

Had  the  Merrimac  been  victorious,  the  fortress 
was  ill-prepared  for  her,  and  much  loss  of  life  and 
even  capture  might  have  ensued.  But  the  Chaplain 
was  unmoved.  In  a  letter  to  his  family  he  says : 
"  Fear  not  for  me.  God  cares  for  me.  I  never  felt 
less  fear  than  now."  Nor  did  this  first  fear  of  battle, 
which  everything  indicated  would  soon  be  the  order 
of  the  day  upon  land,  induce  him  to  cast  any  longing 
looks  homeward.  He  writes  to  his  wife  :  "  Much  as  I 
love  you  and  my  children,  I  am  glad  I  am  not  with 
you,  nor  you  with  me.  My  duty  is  here;  yours,  there. 
In  all  events,  God  bless  you  !  "  Referring  to  the  bill 
which  was  before  Congress  for  the  reduction  of  the 
chaplain's  pay,  he  says,  "  I  would  not  leave,  if  I  had 
to  live  on  a  crust,  till  the  contest  is  over." 

In  company  with  Vice-President  Hamlin,  the  Prince 
de  Joinville,  Senators  Hale,  Sherman,  Anthony,  and 
Wilkinson,  Hon.  Charles  R.  Train,  and  many  other 
distinguished  officials,  he  visited  the  scene  of  the  naval 
conflict. 

"  Early  on  Monday  morning  we  embarked  on  board  the 
fine  steamer  King  Philip,  which  had  been  chartered  for  the 
occasion,  and  had  brought  the  party  from  Washington.  For 
three  days  the  weather  had  been  very  stormy  here.  Virginia 


MEERIMAC  AND  MONITOR.  243 

had  stood  like  Niobe,  dissolved  in  tears.  Was  she  weeping 
over  the  sins  of  her  rebellious  sons  ?  For  some  cause,  cer- 
tainly, she  has  been  in  a  melting  mood  for  long  and  weary 
months ;  but  no  fairer  day  ever  shone  than  last  Monday. 
Perhaps  the  hope  that  these  officials,  civil,  military,  and 
naval,  would  devise  something  to  crush  out  the  treason  which 
has  made  Virginia  mourn,  had  something  to  do  with  the  un- 
wonted smile  the  face  of  the  country  wore  that  day.  Wipe 
out  rebellion  from  this  State,  and  Virginia  will  wipe  away 
her  tearsi  At  any  rate,  we  saw  once  again  the  '  sunny 
South,'  and  our  faces  smiled  as  well  as  Nature's  at  the 
glad  and  unwonted  spectacle.  An  excellent  band  also  '  dis- 
coursed most  eloquent  music'  on  the  occasion,  from  the 
steamer's  deck. 

"  Our  first  visit  was  to  Newport  News,  which  we  reached 
after  a  delightful  sail  of  about  an  hour.  Here  the  party 
sorrowfully  viewed  the  charred  and  blackened  hulk  of  the 
burnt  frigate  Congress,  and  gazed  mournfully,  but  proudly 
too,  on  the  masts  of  the  sunken  Cumberland,  —  that  noble 
sloop-of-war  which  never  surrendered.  By  request  of  Sena- 
tor Hale,  we  passed  close  to  and  slowly  by  this  sunken  vessel, 
in  which  are  entombed  '  the  noble  men  who  perished  there/ 
and  who  had  followed  that  heroic  motto  of  a  naval  com- 
mander, '  Don't  give  up  the  ship.'  They  had  died  rather 
than  surrender.  The  band  played  the  '  Star-spangled  Ban- 
ner.' Fitting  requiem  were  those  inspiring  strains  and  the 
eloquent  words  to  which  they  were  adapted.  No  mourn- 
ful dirge  befits  our  heroic  dead,  but  rather  our  country's 
martial  strains  with  which  heart-strings  vibrate  in  unison, 
as  we  resolve  to  emulate  those  who,  on  that  blood-stained 
and  sinking  vessel,  even  in  the  death-agony  and  to  the  last 
gasp,  '  fought  the  good  fight,'  and  did  conquer,  though  seem- 
ingly vanquished ;  for 

'  The  saints  in  all  this  glorious  war 
Shall  conquer,  though  they  're  slain.' 


244  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

"  As  that  martial  tune  was  played,  some  voices  joined  in 
singing  its  words, — 

'  0  say,  can  you  see,  by  the  dawn's  early  light, 

What  so  proudly  we  hailed  at  the  twilight's  last  gleaming; 
Whose  broad  stripes  and  bright  stars,  through  the  perilous  fight, 

O'er  the  ramparts  we  watched,  were  so  gallantly  streaming  ? 
And  the  rocket's  red  glare,  the  bombs  bursting  in  air, 
Gave  proof  through'  the  night  that  our  flag  was  still  there. 
O  say,  does  the  star-spangled  banner  still  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave  ?  ' 

"And  as  we  sang  or  listened,  we  looked,  and  lol.our  ques- 
tion was  answered :  there  from  the  topmast  of  that  gallant 
ship  the  star-spangled  banner  still  waved.  The  sunshine  of 
that  beautiful  morning  glanced  from  the  pennant  of  that 
heroic  vessel,  still  streaming  from  the  masthead  as  it  had 
done  'through  that  perilous  fight.'  General  Mansfield  has 
ordered  a  national  flag  to  be  affixed  to  another  of  the  masts, 
still  to  wave  in  proud  defiance  to  the  foe,  say,  rather,  as  the 
most  eloquent  memorial  to  mark  the  grave  of  those  men  who 
had  died  for  that  flag  and  the  principles  it  typifies." 

They  also  visited  the  Monitor. 

"  Its  iron  deck  seemed  almost  sacred  as  I  trod  it ;  for  had  I 
not  seen  that  fearful  but  glorious  contest  between  our  little 
David  and  the  rebel  Goliath  ?  and  did  I  not  owe  perhaps  my 
life  to  the  prowess  of  the  little  Monitor  ?  Does  not  the 
country  owe  a  debt,  also,  to  that  gallant  defender,  which  gold 
can  never  pay  ?  We  were  politely  received  by  Lieutenant 
JefFers,  her  commander,  and  all  parts  of  the  Monitor  exhib- 
ited, and  the  tower,  or  '  cheese-box,'  as  the  rebels  called  it, 
was  revolved  for  our  inspection.  Of  course  I  shall  not  de- 
scribe its  armament  or  mechanism.  Too  freely  has  that 
been  done  by  others  already.  I  felt  her  invincibility,  how- 
ever, as  never  before,  and  should  now  hear  that  the  Merri- 
mac  had  steamed  down  for  a  conflict  with  almost  as  much 


MEREIMAC  AND  MONITOR.  245 

joy  as  would  thrill  the  hearts  of  the  brave  officers  and  crew 
of  the  little  Monitor." 

He  says  again  in  reference  to  the  conflict :  — 

"  No  officer  was  captured  of  any  naval  ship  or  military 
company  on  that  eventful  day.  The  enemy  captured  just 
twenty-three  sailors,  who  went  on  board  one  of  their  tug- 
boats voluntarily,  either  through  mistake  or  lured  by  a  prom- 
ise from  the  perfidious  foe  that  they  should  be  set  free  on 
shore  at  Newport  News.  These  men  were  carried  to  Norfolk, 
one  dying  on  the  way.  But  for  the  sharpshooters  of  the 
Indiana  Twentieth  from  the  shore,  more  prisoners,  including 
officers  of  the  Congress,  would  have  been  taken.  Nor  was 
a  single  man  killed  in  camp  at  Newport  News.  Two  Ger- 
mans were  wounded  among  the  soldiers  on  shore.  Less 
than  two  hundred  sailors  and  soldiers  in  all  were  killed  dur- 
ing the  entire  naval  engagement.  The  enemy's  victory  was 
a  bootless  one,  and  I  believe  will  result  in  good  to  our  cause, 
by  changing  our  naval  tactics,  and  forcing  us  to  resort  to 
plated  steamers  and  gunboats,  instead  of  wooden  walls. 
Such  a  floating  battery  is  far  better  as  a  means  of  defence 
than  an  entire  fleet  of  wooden  ships  of  war,  or  half  a  dozen 
forts,  and  much  less  expensive  thSn  are  our  steam  wooden 
frigates  or  the  maintaining  a  single  fort  sixty  days." 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN. 

"  Glory  seemed  betrayed." 

EVER  did  military  expedition  set  out  under 
more  favorable  auspices  than  the  Peninsular 
campaign  in  the  spring  of  1862.  Victory- 
had  perched  upon  the  Union  banner  in  a 
series  of  momentous  battles.  Farragut's  naval  achieve- 
ment, transcending  the  rules  of  military  science,  as 
genius  and  genius  only  has  power  to  do,  had  sailed 
by  the  embattled  forts  and  seized  the  Crescent  City. 
This  glorious  feat  wrought  up  the  zeal  of  the  Union 
forces  to  a  high  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  while  it  dealt  to 
Rebellion  a  stunning  »J>low,  and  little  was  needed  to 
crush  it  forever. 

An  immense  army  started  to  go  up  the  Peninsula, 
fired  with  martial  ardor  and  flushed  with  hope.  The 
enemy  were  hi  no  spirit  nor  force  to  resist  its  onward 
march.  But  the  great  expedition  paused  before  York- 
town,  and,  observing  the  most  cautious  rules  of  military 
science,  advanced  upon  the  place  with  the  progressive 
parallels  of  a  siege,  as  if  it  had  the  strength  of  Sebas- 
topol.  But  the  heart  of  the  enemy  failed  them,  and 
they  evacuated.  They  were  slowly  and  cautiously 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  2-17 

pursued.  They  were  vanquished  in  the  battle  of 
Williamsburg.  But  advantage  was  not  taken  of  vic- 
tory to  strike  an  effectual  blow.  Slowly  feeling  their 
way,  the  Union  forces  advanced.  The  enemy,  mean- 
while, by  this  dilatory  progress,  gained  heart  and  time 
and  reinforcements.  When  Yorktown  was  evacuated, 
Richmond  had  been  almost  destitute.  But  time  had 
been  given  to  concentrate  forces  there,  and  make  for- 
tifications. Within  a  few  miles  of  Richmond  the  bloody 
field  of  Fair  Oaks  was  fought,  and  the  discomfited  foe 
fled  to  the  city.  The  rebels  talked  of  evacuating  the 
capital,  and  all  expected  it  to  fall ;  but  the  Union  army 
did  not  seize  the  occasion  to  attack  it.  Slowly  ap- 
proaching, the  Federals  came  so  near  that  the  clocks 
of  the  city  could  be  heard  in  the  Union  camp  as  they 
struck  the  hours,  and  from  a  high  tree,  known  as  the 
signal-tree,  its  buildings  could  be  discerned. 

But  the  enemy  had  been  reinforced,  not  only  by 
men,  but  by  midsummer,  which  had  been  permitted 
to  come  upon  the  Union  army,  breeding  pestilence  in 
its  marshy  camp.  This  ally,  in  a  heart-sickening,  in- 
glorious way,  laid  more  brave  Union  soldiers  under 
the  sod  than  all  the  balls  and  bullets  of  the  Rebellion. 
The  enemy  soon  made  a  concentrated  attack,  leaving 
Richmond  feebly  guarded.  Now  commenced  a  strate- 
getic  movement,  as  it  has  been  called,*  by  which  the 
Union  army  was  withdrawn,  badly  shattered,  to  the 

*  Chaplain  Fuller  related,  that  after  the  Peninsular  retreat  he  was  in 
conversation  with  a  Frenchman,  who  spoke  very  disparagingly  of  the 
operations  of  the  Union  army  in  that  campaign.  To  offset  it  the  Chap- 
lain reminded  him  of  Napoleon's  retreat  from  Moscow.  "  Ah !  "  cried 
the  Frenchman,  "  Napoleon  never  retreated.  That  was  only  one  grand 
retrograde  movement  1 " 


248  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

protection  of  the  gunboats.  The  right  wing,  as  they 
retired,  fully  believed  that  the  other  wing  was  being 
hurled  upon  Richmond ;  but  in  this  belief  they  were 
destined  to  cruel  disappointment  ;  and  they  arrived 
weary  and  broken  to  the  river-banks,  to  learn  that 
the  day  was  lost,  the  most  reasonable  anticipations  of 
victory  rendered  vain,  and  one  of  the  largest  armies 
known  to  history,  composed  of  a  rank  and  file  of  un- 
equalled valor  and  endurance,  reduced  to  a  shadow. 

This  was  a  disastrous  blight  upon  Union  hopes,  arid 
it  thrilled  painfully  through  every  pulse  of  the  nation. 
That  most  delicate  thermometer  of  public  confidence, 
finances,  sunk  immediately.  Gold  rose  to  an  unprece- 
dented premium,  and  public  securities  declined.  On 
the  Saturday  when  the  telegraph  announced  the  sad 
finale  of  the  Peninsular  campaign,  the  affrighted  silver 
dollar  and  all  his  progeny  of  change  retreated  instantly 
to  hoarding-places,  and  the  market  was  left  to  make 
shift,  as  it  might,  with  postage-stamps  and  other  paper 
substitutes. 

But  we  must  leave  to  the  deliberate  inquest  of  his- 
tory the  searching  out  of  the  causes  of  this  dreadful 
national  disaster,  while  we  record  the  Chaplain's  notes 
by  the  way. 

He  writes  respecting  the  encampment  before  York- 
town  :  — 

"Three  times  have  I  visited  McClellan's  grand  and 
noble  army  while  it  was  encamped  before  Yorktown.  The 
roads,  fearful  beyond  belief  or  expression ;  the  uncouth  speci- 
mens of  Southern  '  chivalry '  and  coarse,  vehement  Secession 
women ;  the  rich  soil,  almost  wholly  untilled,  and  evidencing 
years  of  agricultural  neglect,  —  these  have  been  too  often 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  249 

described  by  correspondents  to  require  any  recital  on  my 
part.  Nor  shall  I  speak  of  privations  and  hardships  insepa- 
rable from  the  condition  of  any  large  army  moving  rapidly 
through  a  hostile  country.  What  do  soldiers  or  visitors  to 
soldiers  expect,  if  not  these  ?  I  am  stopping  at  the  far-famed 
Nelson  house,  which  Lord  Cornwallis  occupied  while  in 
Yorktown  in  1781.  It  is  now  occupied  as  a  hospital,  and 
in  these  rooms,  which  once  were  filled  with  British  officers, 
and  but  a  few  days  ago  with  Jefferson  Davis,  Magruder,  and 
other  rebel  generals,  now  our  sick  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
loyal  army  can  be  found. 

"  This  morning  I  breakfasted  with  three  rebel  officers, 
captured  by  us  last  Sabbath  as  they  inadvertently  rode  into 
our  lines,  believing  the  Yankees  still  in  front  of  and  not  in 
Yorktown.  These  officers  I  found  every  way  gentlemen, 
and  though  defiant  of  the  North  and  a  little  grandiose  in 
their  Southern  hopes,  our  morning  breakfast,  which  was 
casually  made  together,  passed  off  very  agreeably  to  me. 
They  declared,  in  answer  to  my  questions,  that  they  be- 
lieved a  decided  stand  would  be  made  at  Richmond  by  the 
rebel  army ;  they  thought  defeat  possible,  and  that  Virginia 
would  be  very  likely  to  be  evacuated,  but  that  this  would 
by  no  means  end  the  contest  nor  injure  the  South,  except 
with  foreign  nations,  •  whose  assistance  they  have  ceased  to 
hope.  The  capture  of  New  Orleans  they  admitted  to  be  a 
heavy  blow  to  their  cause,  and  they  candidly  acknowledged 
that  Beauregard,  though  victorious  on  the  first  day's  fight  at 
Shiloh,  was  repulsed  on  the  second  day  with  heavy  loss. 
The  blockade  they  believed  a  great  hardship,  and  severely 
felt,  but  ultimately  would  do  the  South  good,  by  making  her 
self-sustaining." 

Here  he  secures  some  trophies. 

"  I  bring  with  me  many  relics,  collected  at  Yorktown. 
One,  a  fierce,  bloodtliirsty-looking  pike,  used   by  the  rebel 
11* 


250  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

soldiers.  It  is  fourteen  feet  in  length,  adapted  to  cut  or 
thrust,  with  a  sharp  side-knife  to  cut  off  an  adversary's  head 
or  make  him  captive.  I  have  also  a  piece  of  a  shell,  dug 
from  the  old  Yorktown  intrenchments  near  the  Nelson  house, 
and  supposed  to  have  been  used  in  the  ancient  siege.  As  we 
approach  the  fortress  strange  sights  and  sounds  salute  the 
eyes  and  ears.  We  see  the  bombs  bursting  in  the  air,  and 
hear  the  big  gun  Union  and  our  war-ships  and  gunboats  dis- 
coursing in  thunder  tones.  We  see  the  fire  and  thick  smoke 
at  Sewall's  Point,  and  as  we  near  the  fortress  we  can  distinct- 
ly see  the  rebel  Goliath,  the  Merrimac.  The  fires  from 
Sewall's  Point  are  growing  faint  by  degrees  and  beautifully 
less.  It  is  an  animated  scene,  I  assure  you,  though  what  it 
all  means  we  cannot  yet  make  out.  We  trust  it  'means 
business,'  and  the  business  which  the  country  so  urgently 
demands  when  it  asks  that  the  Merrimac  and  its  den,  Nor- 
folk, shall  alike  be  taken  or  destroyed." 

His  regiment,  which  had  not  yet  joined  the  Penin- 
sular army,  was  employed  in  the  occupation  of  Norfolk, 
Portsmouth,  and  Suffolk.  The  Chaplain  writes,  under 
date  of  May  12th  :  — 

"  This  Southern  city  and  its  neighbor,  Portsmouth,  are 
now  centres  of  interest,  and  the  scenes  witnessed  on  every 
side  are  novel  and  striking.  Your  correspondent  arrived 
yesterday  morning  at  early  dawn,  and  found  the  city  in  full 
and  quiet  possession  of  the  national  army.  The  Sixteenth 
Massachusetts  Regiment  was  the  first  regiment  entering 
either  city;  the  right  wing,  with  Colonel  Wyman  at  its 
head,  occupying  the  Gosport  Navy- Yard  and  Portsmouth, 
of  which  city  Colonel  Wyman  has  been  appointed  military 
commandant,  the  left  wing  being  stationed  at  the  court- 
house and  jail  in  Norfolk.  Passing  up  the  street,  I  found 
the  stillness  of  the  Sabbath  unbroken,  as  the  soldiers  in  little 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  251 

squads  walked  quietly  here  and  there,  and  the  sullen  men 
and  women  at  street  corners  or  behind  the  blinds  of  their 
houses,  looked  curiously  and  malignantly  at  the  victors,  but 
were  too  much  cowed  down  to  make  any  hostile  demonstra- 
tion. Suddenly  the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  roar  of  can- 
non not  far  off,  and  then  a  few  minutes  after  by  an  explosion 
whose  concussion  shook  earth  and  sea.  The  Merrimac !  was 
instantly  the  name  on  every  lip,  and  a  more  fearful  gloom 
quickly  settled  on  the  brow  of  every  rebel  citizen  of  Norfolk. 
The  fire  which  the  rebels  had  kindled  in  the  ship  had  reached 
first  the  loaded  guns  and  exploded  them,  and  then  the  maga- 
zine of  the  world-noted  tyrant  of  Hampton  Roads,  and  she 
was  no  more.  Soon  deserters  from  her  crew  arrived,  and 
confirmed  the  glad  intelligence  of  the  destruction  of  this 
monster,  who  had  committed  suicide  in  despair  of  a  suc- 
cessful encounter  with  our  champion,  the  little  Monitor. 
The  news  was  received  with  very  mingled  feelings  by  our 
troops  ;  they  rejoiced  that  the  Merrimac  was  destroyed  ;  they 
regretted  that  she  was  not  captured  or  vanquished  by  the 
Monitor.  No  other  vessel  will  ever  be  built  on  the  same 
model,  for  she  drew  too  much  water,  and  was  too  unwieldy 
for  sea  or  river  service,  and  was  at  best  but  a  floating  battery 
for  harbor  defence.  Mayor  Lamb  of  Norfolk  assured  me 
last  evening  that  she  was  not  injured  in  her  contest  with  the 
Monitor,  save  that  her  prow,  having  been  bent  by  the  Cum- 
berland's guns,  was  yet  further  displaced  by  a  shot  from  the 
Monitor,  which  caused  her  to  leak  badly,  and  necessitated 
her  return  to  Norfolk. 

"  Reaching  the  ferry,  I  crossed  to  Portsmouth,  finding  the 
Elizabeth  River  positively  yellow  with  tobacco  and  covered 
with  a  black  scum  from  burning  rebel  steamers  and  gunboats, 
and  the  ruined  navy -yard.  These  were  ah1  fired  by  the  rebels, 
and  were  still  burning  or  half  concealed  by  wreaths  of  dense 
black  smoke.  O  what  a  contrast  Portsmouth  presented  to 


252  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Norfolk !  The  burning  of  the  navy-yard,  ruining  every 
mechanic  in  Portsmouth,  had  filled  full  the  cup  of  indig- 
nation against  their  traitorous  tyrants.  Our  troops  were 
welcomed  as  deliverers.  Women,  and  even  men,  thronged 
about  the  advancing  column  of  the  Sixteenth  Regiment, 
and  insisted  on  kissing  '  the  old  flag,'  weeping  tears  of  joy 
as  they  did  so.  Almost  every  woman  I  met,  and  half 
the  men,  bowed  and  smiled,  gladly  saying,  '  You  are  wel- 
come.' This  was  of  course  not  as  an  individual,  for  I 
knew  nene  of  the  throng,  but  was  a  recognition  of  my  con- 
nection with  the  army.  The  humblest  soldier  received  an 
equal  welcome.  Bouquets  of  flowers  were  brought  us  from 
the  blooming  gardens,  and  two  citizens  earnestly  prof- 
fered me  a  breakfast  in  an  eating-house  near.  Ex- 
hausted and  hungry  from  a  night's  march,  diversified  only 
by  a  ride  for  a  part  of  the  way  in  a  mule-wagon  over  the 
worst  of  roads,  I  cheerfully  accepted  the  invitation.  On 
entering  the  house,  the  good  woman  who  kept  it  said,  '  Well, 
sir,  what  will  you  have?  recollect  we  have  to  live  pretty 
plainly  here.'  '  Oh,'  was  my  answer,  '  I  am  used  to  simple 
living  in  the  army ;  give  me  a  bit  of  beefsteak,  and  that  will 
do.'  <  Steak ! '  was  the  exclamation ;  '  we  have  none.'  '  Very 
well,  some  ham  and  eggs.'  '  Eggs !  there  are  none  to  be  had 
now.'  '  Ah !  then  just  some  bread  and  butter,  and  a  cup  of  tea.' 
'  Butter  and  tea ! '  said  my  poor  hostess ;  '  sir,  the  like  of  us  poor 
folks  have  n't  seen  such  things  for  a  long  time,  nor  is  there 
a  pound  of  tea  to  be  bought  in  all  Portsmouth.'  I  rather 
despaired  of  any  further  calling  of  the  bill  of  fare,  and  left 
it  entirely  to  my  entertainers,  who  soon  produced  some  ham, 
corn  bread,  rye  coffee,  and  excellent  oysters.  This  I  find  to 
have  been  a  luxurious  meal  amid  this  starving  population. 
The  excitement  was  intensified  when  I  insisted  on  paying 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar  for  my  entertainment.  '  What,  real 
money ! '  said  the  poor  woman,  and  she  exhibited  it  at  once 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  253 

to  an  admiring  crowd,  who  looked  upon  it  as  a  memento  of 
their  bygone  happy  days.  I  have  narrated  this  incident 
accurately,  as  it  shows  the  almost  utter  destitution  both  of 
money  and  provisions  on  the  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 
long-oppressed  people. 

"  Leaving  the  house,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a 
throng  swarming  to  the  river.  It  seemed  as  if  Norfolk  and 
Portsmouth  were  shaken  to  the  centre  with  excitement. 
Many  whispered  hopefully,  some  mournfully,  '  The  citizens 
are  rising  against  the  Unionists.'  All  such  hope  or  fear  was 
soon  dissipated,  for,  elbowing  my  way  through  the  crowd,  I 
saw  the  little  Monitor  anchored  in  the  stream,  and  let  me 
assure  you  she  excited  as  eager  a  gaze  as  could  the  Merri- 
mac  in  New  York  harbor.  A  great  many  '  could  n't  see  it,' 
'  Where  !  where  is  she  ? '  they  cried,  refusing  to  believe  that 
the  insignificant  tub  or  cheese-box  was  the  dreaded  Monitor 
who  had  fought  the  monster  Merrirnac  five  hours,  and  driven 
her  back  leaking  to  Norfolk. 

"  I  cannot  describe  the  ruined  navy-yard  adequately.  The 
scene  is  too  sorrowful.  Fifty  large  mechanic  shops  and  ware- 
houses are  smoking  ruins ;  blackened  hulks  of  steamers  or 
gunboats  lie  on  every  side  ;  huge  piles  of  coal  are  still  burn- 
ing. The  houses  of  officers  alone  are  saved,  and  these  by 
the  efforts  of  citizens,  not  by  the  sparing  mercy  of  the  rebels. 
What  folly,  as  well  as  sin !  By  that  conflagration,  a  fatal 
blow  is  dealt  to  Virginia,  and  that  by  the  hands  of  her  pro- 
fessed special  friends.  Tin's  rebellion  is  making  itself  in- 
famous, even  at  the  South,  by  its  wanton  incendiaiy  fires. 
The  navy-yard  dry-dock  yet  remains  but  little  injured,  only 
the  front  stones  being  loosened  and  the  gates  burned.  The 
attempt  to  blow  it  up  proved  a  failure. 

"  We  are  just  in  time  to  prevent  another  crime  of  slavery. 
The  Norfolk  Day-Book  of  Saturday,  now  in  my  hands,  has 
the  following  advertisement  in  its  columns  :  — 


254  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

'SALE  OF  FREE  BLACKS  FOR  CITY  TAXES. 

'  CITY  COLLECTOR'S  OFFICE,  NORFOLK,  May  6, 1862. 

'  Under  the  provisions  of  an  ordinance  directing  the  sale  of  all  free 
blacks  who  fail  to  pay  their  city  taxes,  I  shall,  before  the  door  of  the 
City  Hall,  on  Monday,  May  12,  at  12  o'clock  M.,  SELL  the  following- 
named  persons  for  the  term  specified  by  said  ordinance.' 

"  Here  follow  the  names  of  one  hundred  and  twelve  males, 
and  two  hundred  and  four  females.  I  was  at  the  place  at 
the  given  time,  but  found  no  opportunity  to  buy  a  slave,  had 
I  desired  so  atrocious  a  crime.  God  be  praised,  slavery  is 
doomed !  None  welcome  so  loudly,  none  so  gladly,  our  sol- 
diers as  the  slaves  of  these  two  cities.  Whether  others  be 
Unionists  or  not,  they  surely  are. 

•  "  All  speak  enthusiastically  of  the  noble  head  of  our  na- 
tion, —  the  providential  man,  the  Moses  of  our  Israel !  I 
never  witnessed  so  much  enthusiasm  about  any  man  as  about 
that  plain,  homely,  gaunt  being,  who  walks  unostentatiously 
among  our  soldiers,  and  whom  they  greet  as  their  truest 
friend." 

The  regiment  were  soon  ordered  to  Suffolk.  The 
Chaplain  says,  hi  a  letter  dated  June  9th  :  — 

"  We  are  here,  for  a  time,  encamped  on  the  '  Fair  Grounds,' 
less  than  a  half-mile  from  the  centre  of  the  town  ambitiously 
styled  Suffolk  City.  In  the  whole  town,  or  city  if  you  will, 
are  sixteen  hundred  inhabitants,  two  hundred  of  whom  are 
free  negroes.  The  slaves  have  mostly  disappeared,  such 
Southern  riches  taking  to  themselves,  not  wings,  but  legs,  in 
times  like  these,  and  disappearing  rapidly  '  between  two 
days.'  Many  more  have  been  sold  into  further  and  more 
hopeless  Southern  bondage,  to  save  them  from  the  misfor- 
tune their  masters  assure  us  freedom  is  to  the  black  race. 
The  principal  street  in  Suffolk  is  lined  on  either  side  with 
elm-trees ;  the  houses  are  neatly  built,  and  in  general  in 
good  repair,  and,  on  the  whole,  the  town  wears  a  more  trim, 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  255 

New-England  aspect  than  I  have  elsewhere  seen  in  Virginia. 
This  was  one  of  the  old  Whig  strongholds  in  the  days  gone 
by ;  now  no  place  is  more  bitter  in  its  Secession  tone,  though 
growing  much  more  moderate  since  the  occupation  of  the 
place  by  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment,  who,  by  the 
wise  discipline  of  the  officers,  and  their  firm,  strict  bearing 
toward  the  citizens,  and  by  the  good  order  of  its  private 
soldiers,  have  won  the  involuntary  respect  of  the  inhabitants. 
The  absence  of  any  attempt  at  '  conciliation '  on  our  part, 
and  the  unhesitating  avowal  of  our  opinions  and  their  rea- 
sons, have  proved  most  salutary.  A  weak  policy  is  always  a 
false  one,  and  amiability  is  a  synonyme  for  imbecility,  and 
conciliation  for  cowardice,  in  the  rebel  dictionary.  The 
town  is  on  the  very  borders  of  the  Dismal  Swamp,  and  the 
location  can  hardly  be  a  healthy  one ;  but  thus  far,  by  strict 
sanitary  regulations  and  the  utter  prohibition  of  the  sale  of 
spirituous  liquors  to  the  men,  the  health  of  the  regiment  is  as 
good  as  ever.  In  the  north  parish  of  the  town,  I  am  told, 
two  schools  exist  which  are  termed  free.  They  are  supported 
by  a  fund  accumulated  by  the  earnings  of  several  slaves,  who 
were  left  by  will  for  that  purpose  seventy  years  ago.  The 
slaves  are  dead  now,  but  the  monument  of  their  unrequited 
toil  remains.  Of  course  no  colored  person  is  permitted  to  be 
educated  in  these  schools.  The  very  children  and  grand- 
children of  these  swarthy  laborers  have  been  and  are  ex- 
cluded. Only  white  children  can  be  benefited  by  the  coined 
blood  and  sweat  of  these  sable  sons  and  daughters  of  Africa. 
A  free  institution  founded  on  slavery  !  Can  such  an  anomaly 
long  exist?  Must  not  either  the  institution  or  its  founda- 
tion perish  ?  " 

He  thus  refers  to  the  Secession  females  :  — 

"  The  women,  misnamed  ladies,  and  disgracing  womanhood 
itself,  continue  to  insult  our  soldiery,  relying  on  the  immu- 


256  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

nity  from  punishment  their  sex  receives.  General  Butler's 
order,  rightly  interpreted,  would  do  no  harm  here,  and  some- 
thing of  the  kind  is  greatly  needed. 

"  I  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  deal  with  such  rebels,  who 
forget  their  sex,  and  with  it  decency  itself;  but  if  they 
forget  that  they  ever  were  ladies,  can  they  complain  if  occa- 
sionally we  forget  it  likewise  ?  " 

His  regiment  is  now  called  to  join  the  Peninsular 
army.  He  writes  on  June  llth  :  — 

"I  rejoice  that  my  regiment  is  not  left  at  ease  and  in 
safety  as  the  decisive  hour  draws  nigh.  Terrible  as  is  the 
ordeal  of  battle,  I  would  not  shrink  from  that  fearful  sight, 
nor  for  whole  worlds  be  absent  when  word  or  prayer  or  feeble 
act  of  mine  might  avail  anything  to  soothe  or  aid  the  noble 
men  who  fight  for  all  that  is  dear  and  holy.  I  know  no 
holier  place,  none  more  solemn,  more  awful,  more  glorious, 
than  this  battle-field  shall  be.  Let  any  deem  the  feel- 
ing wrong  who  will,  on  that  ground  I  would  rather  stand 
than  in  any  pulpit  in  America,  and  never  can  I  pray  more 
fervently  than  on  that  day  that  God  would  bless  our  dear 
soldiers  and  give  them  success,  and  scatter  before  them  the 
enemies  of  all  righteousness,  the  enemies  of  man  and  of  God, 
like  chaff  before  the  driving  storm.  I  love  peace,  love  it  so 
much  that,  were  it  needful  and  consonant  with  my  vocation, 
I  would  fight  for  it.  '  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,'  and 
these  to-day  I  believe  pre-eminently  to  be  the  men  who 
carry  a  rifle  at  the  shoulder  or  a  sword  by  the  side,  and  are 
determined  to  '  conquer  peace,'  and  to  establish  it  '  by  force 
of  arms,'  on  so  firm  a  foundation  that  our  children  and  chil- 
dren's children  shall  never  be  vexed  by  war's  rude  alarms." 

Of  an  historical  mansion  he  says  :  — 

"  To-day  I  have  visited  the  White  House  here,  built  on 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  257 

the  foundations  of  that  in  wliich  Washington  wooed  and  won 
Mrs.  Custis  as  his  wife,  and  in  .which  the  first  years  of  his 
married  life  were  passed.  Singular  to  say,  the  White  House 
is  not  white,  but  brown.  It  was  recently  owned  and  occupied 
by  Colonel  Lee,  a  son  of  General  Lee  of  the  rebel  army,  and 
himself  in  the  same  ignoble  service.  The  house  is  beauti- 
fully situated  and  prettily  furnished.  An  old  table  and 
clock  which  belonged  to  Washington  are  still  in  its  rooms, 
and  these  are  the  only  relics  of  the  immortal  Washington  I 
saw.  When  our  soldiers  entered  the  house,  they  found  the 
piano  open,  and  a  music-book  also  outspread,  as  if  just  used 
by  some  fair  rebel.  On  it  Mrs.  Lee  had  written,  '  Northern 
soldiers,  who  profess  to  venerate  the  memory  of  Washington, 
respect  this  house,  in  which  he  passed  the  first  years  of  his 
married  life.'  They  have  done  so ;  the  house  is  uninjured, 
and  carefully  guarded,  though  Mrs.  Lee's  modest  request 
yesterday,  to  have  the  table  of  Washington  and  several 
other  things  sent  to  her  within  the  rebel  lines,  has  not  yet 
been  granted.  Opening  the  music-book  I  found  also  the 
opera  /  Puritani,  The  Puritans.  I  wonder  how  Mrs.  Lee 
and  the  Colonel  like  the  Puritans  of  to-day,  and  whether 
she  rejoices  in  the  triumphs  which  show  the  Puritan  blood 
yet  runs  in  their  veins,  while  the  descendants  of  the  Cav- 
aliers run  before  Massachusetts  Puritans,  as  their  ances- 
try did  before  Cromwell's  army." 

He  visited,  too,  a  memorable  church. 

"  We  rode  through  an  avenue  of  trees,  which  form  the 
entrance  to  the  White  House,  and  soon  came  to  an  opening 
or  intervale,  which  for  extent  and  beauty  rivalled  a  Western 
prairie.  It  was  enamelled  with  flowers,  and  looked  as  peace- 
ful amid  the  lofty  groves  and  rugged  bluffs,  as  though  it  were 
some  happy  valley  smiling  serenely  amid  frowning  cliffs  and 
stately,  solemn  trees.  A  half-mile  more  brought  us  to  a 

Q 


258  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

fountain  sheltered  by  a  few  stately  oaks,  beneath  which  it 
murmured  forth  its  gentle  invitation  for  the  thirsty  traveller 
to  stop  and  drink  of  its  refreshing  waters.  We  were  not 
unmindful  of  the  request,  and  found  the  draught  a  pleaMint 
contrast  to  the  brackish  waters  common  in  Virginia.  Strik- 
ing into  a  bridle-path,  we  entered  a  little  glen,  as  charming  as 
I  have  ever  seen,  even  in  the  groves  of  dear  old  Massachu- 
setts. Passing  on  as  rapidly  as  my  unchristian  horse  would 
allow,  who  resented  every  application  of  my  spurred  heels 
by  kicking  viciously,  we  went  through  a  camp  strewn  with 
coats  and  knapsacks  which  our  soldiers  left  behind  them  as 
they  '  went  marching  on,'  and  saw  anon  the  quaint  old  church 
in  which  Washington  was  married.  It  is  beautifully  located, 
amid  arching  oaks,  whose  interlaced  branches  twine  appro- 
priate chaplets  to  his  memory.  The  church  is  built  of  bricks 
imported  from  England.  It  is  a  rude  and  simple  structure, 
as  we  judge  by  the  light  of  to-day,  though  in  its  time  deemed 
rather  an  elegant  edifice.  None  worship  there  just  at  present 
but  the  twittering  swallows,  who  '  have  made  there  a  nest 
for  themselves,  even  thine  altars,  O  my  God.' " 

But  there  were  sadder  scenes  to  witness.  He 
writes :  — 

"  I  have  visited  most  of  the  tents  wherein  lie  the  sick 
and  wounded,  and  their  inmates  bear  uniform  testimony  to 
the  skill  and  kindness  of  these  noble  surgeons  whb  are  per- 
forming such  holy  and  honorable  service  at  this  hour  of  our 
country's  need.  God  bless  them!  I  find  here  also  Miss 
Harriet  Fanning  Read,  the  poetess,  a  native  of  Boston,  who 
is  here  nursing  and  caring  for  the  suffering  and  the  dying. 
Here  too  are  most  excellent  and  devoted  ladies  connected 
with  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  our  friends  at  home  may 
be  well  assured  that  all  possible  is  done  for  the  sick  and 
wounded  of  this  '  grand  army  of  the  Potomac.' " 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  259 

Martial  scenes  were  now  the  order  of  the  day.  On 
June  14th  he  writes  :  — 

"  We  are  encamped  on  this  field,  but  recently  the  scene  of 
the  most  sanguinary  encounter  which  tliis  war  has  yet  wit- 
nessed or  the  country  itself  ever  known.  Beneath  us  and 
on  every  side  are  recent  graves,  sown  thick  with  men,  while 
the  woods  all  ai-ound  us  are  full  of  the  bodies  of  rebels,  as  yet 
unburied,  the  number  of  the  slain  being  too  great  to  have  yet 
been  entirely  disposed  of.  Arms,  accoutrements  of  every 
kind,  are  strewn  about,  while  the  two  or  three  houses  beneath 
the  '  fair  oaks '  which  give  the  true  name  to  this  battle-field 
are  completely  riddled  with  balls  and  shell.  The  '  seven 
pines  '  are  close  by,  which  first  gave  an  erroneous  title  to  the 
battle-field,  which  all  the  resident  Virginians  call  '  Fair 
Oaks,'  which  is  the  designation  of  the  railroad  station  near. 

"This  division  (Hooker's)  is  emphatically  a  fighting  di- 
vision, its  general  being  familiarly  termed  '  Fighting  Joe 
Hooker,'  and  is  abundantly  dreaded  by  the  enemy.  I  be- 
lieve the  Sixteenth  Regiment  will  not  bring  upon  it  any 
reproach,  but  will  do  its  entire  duty  in  the  approaching  con- 
flict. Time  will  erelong  show  in  reference  to  this,  and  may 
it  exhibit  an  honorable  record. 

"  We  are  living  with  republican  simplicity  here,  I  assure 
you.  The  staff  officers  have  but  soldiers'  rations,  and  we  all 
sleep  on  the  ground,  and  officers  and  privates  share  hardships 
together.  But  such  is  a  soldier's  life,  and  I  hear  no  murmur- 
ing, and  have  none  myself  to  utter. 

"  Of  course  I  cannot  speak  of  plans  or  positions  here. 
Suffice  it  that  we  are  close  upon  Richmond,  and  hope  soon  to 
enter  the  rebel  capital.  How  soon  or  by  what  movements  it 
would  be  improper  to  write. 

"  All  our  baggage  is  left  behind,  we  retaining  no  more  than 
what  can  be  carried  in  the  coat-pocket  or  haversack." 


260 


CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 


On  the  17th  he  writes :  — 

"  We  are  encamped  on  the  field  recently  the  scene  of  the 
most  sanguinary  strife  in  the  annals  of  American  warfare,  for 
on  this  spot,  when  the  true  narrative  of  this  war  is  written, 
it  will  appear  that  more  lives  were  lost,  more  wounds  re- 
ceived, than  in  any  other  conflict  of  this  struggle,  or  in  any 
of  its  predecessors  on  this  continent. 

"  The  terrible  evidences  of  the  bloody  nature  of  this  fight 
are  all  about  us.  In  one  grove  sixty-seven  bodies  are  buried, 
and  the  soil  is  sown  thick  with  mounds,  in  which  lie  heaps 
of  slain. 

"  Nor  do  we  need  to  read  the  record  of  the  past  week, 
written  in  blood  and  bones  on  this  plain,  though  each  day  has 
its  own  dangers  and  horrors.  On  Sunday  I  was  three  times 
under  fire,  —  twice  in  my  own  regiment  and  once  while  on 
a  brief  visit  to  the  Twenty-ninth  Massachusetts.  Early  in 
the  morning  of  that  day  the  shot  and  shell  flew  thick  and 
fast  over  our  heads,  and  we  were  momentarily  expecting  a 
general  engagement,  and  in  the  evening  the  same  scene  was 
repeated ;  but  prudence  was,  on  both  occasions,  the  best 
part  of  rebel  valor.  At  noon  of  same  day,  a  very  fierce 
attack  was  made  while  we  were  at  dinner  with  the  Twenty- 
ninth,  in  Meagher's  Brigade. 

"  Add  to  this  a  most  fearful,  raging  thunder-storm,  in  which 
the  artillery  of  heaven  rivalled  and  drowned  at  intervals  the 
jarringk  thunders  of  our  cannon,  and  you  have  a  day  more 
stirring  than  could  be  dreamed  of  on  a  peaceful  New  Eng- 
land Sabbath.  On  Monday  morning,  very  early,  at  two  and 
five  A.  M.,  we  were  twice  called  again  into  line  of  battle  by 
similar  attacks,  but  no  general  engagement  ensued,  though  in 
these  encounters  lives  and  limbs  were  lost  on  our  side  and 
doubtless  on  the  other.  We  realize  here  what  war  means, 
and  that  it  implies  suffering,  wounds,  death. 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  261 

"  We  make  no  complaint  of  privations.  They  are  unavoid- 
able, generally,  when  large  masses  of  men  are  moved.  And 
this  swampy  ground,  this  cold  summer  with  its  incessant 
rains,  the  necessity  of  leaving  most  of  our  tents  and  other 
-comforts  behind,  render  such  hardships  unavoidable  for  us. 
For  three  nights 

'  My  lodging  was  on  the  cold,  cold  ground,' 

with  but  a  solitary  blanket  for  protection.  Yesterday  we 
made  rude  beds  of  pine-boughs,  and  are  more  comfortable  in 
that  respect.  'Hard-tack,'  or  crackers,  what  the  soldiers 
call  '  Hardee  tactics,'  coffee  destitute  of  any  milk  or  sugar, 
and  '  salt-horse,'  as  the  men  term  salt  beef,  were  the  rations 
of  officers  and  privates  alike,  but  we  are  doing  better  to-day, 
and  shall  doubtless  be  better  provided  for  when  our  supplies 
can  reach  us. 

"  The  rainy  days,  and  strangely  cold  nights  following  even 
the  days  most  glowing  and  sultry,  have  tried  and  must  try 
our  constitutions,  but  sanitary  care  wards  off  most  of  the  dan- 
ger ;  and  all  will  be  well  if  only  we  can  witness  Richmond 
taken,  the  rebel  army  routed,  and  can  hear  that  Charleston, 
the  head  of  the  snake  Secessia,  is  crushed,  and  the  rebellion 
dead  or  dying,  and  this  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished 
cannot  be  far  off.  God  speed  the  day !  " 

On  the  19th  he  describes  an  engagement. 

"  Yesterday  witnessed  the  first  bloody,  skirmish  in  which 
the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  regiment  has  been  engaged. 
We  call  the  battle  a  skirmish,  — '  Woodland  Skirmish,'  — 
it  being  in  advance  of  the  scene  of  the  Fair  Oaks  battle, 
or  of  any  place  where  a  fight  has  yet  taken  place  between 
us  and  our  foes. 

"  The  camp  of  this  regiment  has  been  some  three  times 
exposed  to  fire,  shot  and  shell  reaching  us,  but  producing  no 
casualties ;  and  yesterday  a  sharp  attack  upon  the  left  wing 


262  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

of  the  army,  where  we  are  located  in  the  front  rank,  called 
out  this  whole  brigade  under  arms.  It  was  deemed  best  by 
General  McClellan  to  order  a  reconnoissance  in  force  by  one 
regiment,  and  ours  was  selected  for  the  dangerous  and  im- 
portant service.  At  3£  P.  M.  the  entire  regiment  was  ordered 
under  arms,  and  sent  forward  into  the  woodlands  where  it 
was  supposed  the  enemy  lay,  and  beyond  which  his  batteries 
were  known  to  be.  No  man  shrunk  from  his  duty.  Your 
correspondent  was  ill  with  a  sick-headache,  but  felt  it  to  be 
no  more  than  his  duty  to  go  forward  with  his  regiment  to  a 
scene  which  was  certainly  one  of  peril,  though  of  honor  also. 
"We  marched  over  the  field,  where  a  multitude  of  graves  of 
the  fallen  in  the  late  battle  of  Fair  Oaks  met  our  view ;  indeed, 
we  are  encamped  on  that  field  where  Casey's  division  were 
before  the  last  battle.  We  soon  reached  the  woodlands  in 
our  front,  where  the  regiment  deployed  as  skirmishers.  The 
woods  proved  to  be  full  of  rebels  snugly  ensconced  in  their 
rifle-pits,  and  a  large  fortification  supplied  with  artillery  was 
just  beyond  the  woods.  The  action  was  soon  brought  on, 
and  was  short,  sharp,  and  terrible.  I  can  truly  say  that  our 
regiment  behaved  nobly,  and  I  saw  no  flinching  on  the  part 
of  any  man.  The  only  fault  I  will  find,  if  any,  was  that 
they  were  too  rash,  and  pushed  forward  too  determinedly, 
considering  the  tremendous  odds  both  of  position  and  men 
agaijist  which  we  were  contending.  The  enemy  were  cer- 
tainly in  force,  five  to  our  one,  knew  every  tree  and  ravine, 
and  were  protected  by  rifle-pits.  Of  course  our  brave  men 
fell  fast,  and  soon  we  bore  away,  wounded  or  dying,  five  brave 
soldiers  whom  I  have  since  buried. 

"  We  drove  the  enemy  back  from  the  woods  to  their  in- 
trenched fortifications,  but  were  unable  to  hold  our  ground 
or  bring  off  our  dead  under  the  murderous  fire  of  their  artil- 
lery. Double  the  number  of  our  loss  must  have  fallen  killed 
and  wounded  of  the  rebel  forces  by  the  courageous  fire  of 


THE   PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  263 

our  men.  We  took  three  prisoners.  We  ascertained,  too, 
the  force  and  position  of  the  enemy,  which  was  the  whole 
intent  of  the  reconnoissance." 

On  the  21st  lie  speaks  of  an  assault. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  at  three  o'clock,  the  battery  of  the 
enemy  which  was  unmasked  by  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts 
Regiment,  in  their  reconnoissance  of  last  Wednesday,  opened 
full  fire  upon  Grover's  brigade,  then  doing  guard  and  picket 
duty,  which  here  requires  an  extra  brigade  for  each  wing  and 
one  for  the  centre  of  the  army.  As  the  Sixteenth  Regiment 
was  then  on  the  advance  picket,  your  correspondent  at  once 
proceeded  to  the  field.  The  'fair  oaks'  were  struck  by 
many  shot  and  shell,  and  the  enemy's  missiles  flew  pretty 
lively  for  about  an  hour.  Several  shrapnel  shell  burst  and 
spilled  their  contents  about  our  heads  in  a  very  disagreea- 
ble way.  These  shells  were  filled  with  large  bullets,  Ken- 
tucky rifle-balls,  Minie  bullets,  &c.  They  fired  also  some 
canister  shell  and  a  few  solid  shot.  This  firing  was  more 
severe  than  any  we  have  yet  been  exposed  to,  and  the  guns 
were  evidently  of  long  range,  as  some  shell  passed  over  our 
camp  as  well  as  the  regiment  in  the  field  in  front.  No  cas- 
ualty, however,  took  place,  the  shell  doing  no  special  damage 
to  us.  Artillery  firing  on  men  in  an  open  field  is  really  less 
dangerous,  though  more  noisy,  than  rifle  volleys  in  wood  or 
field.  The  Sixteenth  certainly  gets  its  share  of  action  and 
peril  now,  but  the  boys  are  fast  becoming  accustomed  to  the 
smell  of  powder. 

"  We  hear  regularly,  morning  and  evening,  the  enemy's 
band  playing,  and  their  drum-beat  at  reveille  and  tattoo.  The 
object  of  the  assault  yesterday  was  to  prevent  the  further 
construction  of  our  works  and  reach  our  batteries,  and  if 
possible  destroy  our  camp.  Their  effort  was  in  all  respects 
a  failure.  On  the  field,  attracted  by  the  firing,  I  met  Gen- 


264  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

era!  Kearney,  the  brave  general  who  lost  an  arm  in  the 
Mexican  war,  but  who  rides  now  into  the  battle-field  with 
his  rein  in  his  mouth  and  his  sword  in  his  remaining  hand, 
an  impersonation  of  military  skill  and  precision,  and  greatly 
admired  and  loved  by  all  the  soldiery.  He  was  accompanied 
by  the  Count  de  Paris,  who  was  full  of  interest  in  the  result 
of  our  arms,  and  seems  a  truly  noble  and  worthy  young 
man." 

On  the  22d  he  writes  :  — 

"  Each  day  brings  its  own  excitement  and  novel  scene ; 
almost  each  hour  witnesses  here  hi  the  front  line  some  in- 
cursion of  the  enemy  or  reconnoissance  by  ourselves,  some 
wounded,  perhaps  dying  soldier,  shot  barbarously  on  picket 
by  the  rebels,  or  some  deserter  or  prisoner  brought  into  our 
lines  and  passing  through  our  camp.  We  occupy  the  ground 
on  which  Casey's  division  lately  were  ;  a  fteld  which,  by  its 
graves  and  yet  unburied  dead,  shows  evidences  of  its  sangui- 
nary scenes. 

"  Every  now  and  then  a  shrapnel  or  canister  shot  or  shell 
reaches  the  camp,  and  throws  it  into  a  little  confusion,  though 
not  causing,  I  believe,  so  much  alarm  as  rather  pleasing 
excitement. 

"  Yesterday  we  had  a  whirlwind,  or  wind-spout,  which  took 
stray  blankets,  newspapers,  letters,  &c.  high  in  air,  and 
passed  rapidly  through  this  camp  and  others,  certainly  afford- 
ing us  some  little  variety. 

"  Yesterday  noon  an  attack  was  made  with  artillery  upon 
this  division,  while  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  was  on  the 
outer  picket,  causing  no  small  stir,  as  the  shot  and  shell  flew 
all  about  us. 

"I  was  under  the  'fair  oaks,'  which  gave  the  name  to 
the  recent  battle,  and  where  the  shell  scattered  in  great  pro- 
fusion. After  the  attack  I  gathered  one  or  two  handfuls  of 


THE  PENINSULAE   CAMPAIGN.  265 

bullets  and  Minie  balls  with  which  shrapnel  shell  were  filled, 
and  which  flew  almost  like  rain  about  us,  yet,  strange  to  say, 
no  one  was  hurt  by  any  of  them." 

Another  conflict  is  near.  Under  date  of  June  27th 
he  writes :  — 

"  This  exciting  life,  amid  the  noise  of  screaming  shot  and 
shell,  with  daily  attacks  upon  our  front  line,  affords  incident 
enough  for  correspondence,  but  scarce  one  quiet  moment  in 
which  to  write.  Day  before  yesterday  was  one  of  unusual 
stir,  and  marked  by  a  most  sanguinary  conflict,  in  which  this 
whole  division  (Hooker's)  was  engaged,  and  in  which  many 
a  gallant  soul  breathed  its  last  sigh  as  it  quit  its  mortal  tene- 
ment. At  an  early  hour  the  entire  division  was  notified  to 
be  under  arms  and  ready  for  the  field.  At  seven  o'clock  the 
line  of  march  was  taken  to  the  woodlands  occupied  by  the 
enemy,  in  front  of  the  late  Fair  Oaks  battle-field.  The  First 
and  Eleventh  Massachusetts  and  Twenty-sixth  Pennsylvania 
were  among  the  earliest  to  enter  the  woodlands,  where  they 
deployed  as  skirmishers.  The  Sixteenth  Massachusetts, 
Eighty-seventh  New  York,  and  Twentieth  Indiana,  and 
other  regiments  remained  in  the  outskirts  of  the  woods  as 
support.  Action  was  not  long  delayed  ;  soon  the  forest 
echoed  with  sharp  volleys  of  musketry.  Each  dell  and 
ravine  was  alive  with  rebels  in  ambush.  They  were  cour- 
ageously driven  from  these  fastnesses,  but  not  without  heavy 
loss  on  both  sides.  Just  beyond  the  groves,  in  a  field,  the 
rebels  have  a  battery.  Our  forces  penetrated  through  the 
woods  to  this  field,  and  found  themselves  under  fire  from 
the  rifle-pits  and  battery  there.  The  enemy  poured  forth 
in  solid  column,  and  with  wild  hurrahs  attacked  our  soldiery. 
At  this  time,  many  of  the  First  Massachusetts,  Second  New 
Hampshire,  and  Twenty-sixth  Pennsylvania  were  wounded 
or  killed ;  but  all  along  the  line  the  enemy  were  repulsed, 

12 


266  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

and  retreated.  Wounded  rebels,  with  some  prisoners,  were 
now  brought  in  to  the  spot  where  your  correspondent  was 
standing,  and  where  also  the  surgeons  and  some  commanding 
officers  were.  These  rebels  seemed  defiant,  and,  though  ex- 
pecting ultimate  defeat  at  Richmond,  declared  that  would  not 
end  the  war.  Their  haversacks  were  pretty  well  supplied 
with  soft  biscuit  and  bacon  for  food,  but  they  had  no  coffee  in 
their  canteens,  and  they  said  that  was  '  long  since  played  out 
in  the  Confederate  army  as  part  of  rations.'  Their  wounded 
bore  their  pains  less  cheerfully  and  uncomplainingly  than  our 
own  men,  though  cared  for  with  equal  tenderness.  I  think 
my  feeling  toward  the  rebellion  does  not  bias  my  judgment 
on  this  point,  but  the  difference  was  noticeable  with  all 
present. 

"  Toward  evening  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts,  Twen- 
tieth Indiana,  and  Eighty-seventh  New  York  were  subjected 
to  a  fierce  attack  by  the  rallying  rebels.  The  first-named 
regiment  had  but  little  share  in  the  earlier  portion  of  the 
conflict,  .but  at  five  o'clock  were  sent  forward  to  support 
advancing  artillery,  and  the  rebels  attempting  a  flank  move- 
ment, the  Sixteenth  was  encountered  by  a  full  brigade  of  the 
foe,  and  endured  a  cross  fire  for  some  little  time.  This  regi- 
ment, which  distinguished  itself  in  a  brilliant  skirmish  on  the 
18th  instant,  fought  with  much  determination  now,  but  was 
obliged  to  fall  back,  owing  to  the  immense  superiority  of  the 
force  arrayed  against  them.  Being  reinforced  by  a  portion 
of  Couch's  division,  it  rallied  anew  under  its  gallant  officers, 
and  thus  returned  to  the  charge,  the  enemy  being  driven 
from  the  field.  I  sent  you  yesterday  a  list  of  the  killed  and 
wounded  and  missing  of  this  regiment,  twenty-nine  in  num- 
ber. I  did  this,  not  because  their  conduct  in  action  was  more 
meritorious  than  other  regiments,  or  their  loss  greater  in  a 
contest  where  all  did  well,  and  many  regiments  suffered  even 
more  than  they ;  but,  being  with  them,  I  know  more  accu- 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  26T 

rately  the  details  of  their  losses..  Twice  during  the  week  the 
Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment,  just  arrived  on  the  field, 
has  had  a  baptism  of  blood,  losing  sixty  men  in  casualties 
on  the  18th  instant,  and  twenty-nine  on  the  25th.*  It  has 
proved  worthy  to  stand  by  the  side  of  other  noble  regiments 
from  the  glorious  loyal  States.  It  asks  no  higher  praise  or 
honor. 

"  The  houses  and  trees  beneath  which  wounds  were  being 
dressed  by  the  surgeons  presented  sad  scenes  indeed;  but 
many  of  these  were  noble  and  worthy  of  note.  Private 
William  C.  Bentley,  wounded  by  the  shell  of  the  enemy, 
both  legs  broken,  and  arm  and  head  mangled,  yet  not  im- 
mediately killed,  displayed  great  calmness  and  courage.  He 
declined  any  stimulating  drink  or  opiate  which  might  dim 
his  consciousness  until  he  had  first  heard  prayer,  expressed 
his  religious  trust  and  faith,  and  sent  messages  of  love  and 
advice  to  his  mother;  then  he  sank  into  that  sleep  which 
knows  no  earthly  waking.  Private  Francis  Sweetser  of 
Company  E,  Sixteenth  Massachusetts,  lay  wounded  through 
the  abdomen,  in  much  pain,  but  quiet  and  smiling,  as  though 
the  hour  was  full  of  joy  to  him.  'Thank  God,'  he  said, 
'  that  I  am  permitted  to  die  for  my  country ;  thank  God  yet 
more  that  I  am  prepared ' ;  then  he  modestly  added,  '  at 
least  I  hope  I  am.'  "We  who  knew  him,  and  his  humble 
Christian  life  in  his  regiment,  have  no  doubt  of  the  full 
assurance  of  his  faith,  and  that  all  he  hoped  is  now  realized 
in  bliss.  Of  the  First  Massachusetts  there  were  noble  men 
nobly  dying,  and  of  the  Twentieth  Indiana  and  other  regi- 
ments the  same  could  well  and  truly  be  said.  None  can 
realize  the  faith  and  heroism,  the  high  and  noble  character 
of  our  volunteers  as  a  body,  who  has  not  witnessed  a  scene 
like  that. 

*  Afterward,  during  Pope's  retreat,  this  regiment  lost  a  hundred  men  in 
less  than  fifteen  minutes,  while  charging  upon  the  enemy. 


268  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  Our  own  artillery  was  not  idle,  and  the  havoc  among  the 
enemy  must  have  been  fearful.  Repulsed  on  every  side, 
they  withdrew,  and  as  a  result  of  the  battle  our  pickets  were 
advanced  more  than  a  mile  nearer  Richmond  that  evening 
than  ever  before.  The  cheering  along  our  lines  last  night, 
and  the  rejoicing  bands  of  music  show  that  the  right  wing  of 
the  army,  too,  were  not  idle,  while  we  of  the  left  were  ex- 
posed in  conflict.  This  advance  is  very  gratifying,  and  the 
heavy  cannonading  of  yesterday  and  to-day  proves  that  the 
enemy  is  being  driven  from  his  stronghold." 

The  unlooked-for  retreat  now  commenced.  The 
Chaplain  was  providentially  spared  its  sufferings.  On 
June  28th  he  is  again  at  the  White  House,  and 
writes :  — 

"  Once  again  I  am  visiting  this  now  famed  and  henceforth 
doubly  historic  locality.  Yesterday  morning  all  was  unusual- 
ly quiet  in  our  camp.  It  seemed  to  me  an  appropriate  time 
to  visit  White  House  Landing,  and  secure  some  expressage 
which  had  been  sent  me,  and  forward  by  Adams's  express, 
which  had  an  office  there,  some  money  and  other  valuables 
which  had  been  committed  to  my  charge  by  members  of  the 
regiment,  for  the  purpose  of  safe  forwarding.  There  was 
then  no  dream  of  immediate  movement  any  more  than  there 
has  been  for  weeks  and  even  months  past,  —  all  was  sup- 
posed to  be  triumphant  along  our  entire  line.  Martindale's 
brigade  was  reported  to  have  taken  a  heavy  battery  from  the 
enemy,  and  the  evening  before  our  regiment  had  been  sum- 
moned from  their"  repose  to  fall  into  line  to  hear  two  de- 
spatches from  McClellan  as  to  the  success  over  the  enemy 
at  Mechanicsville.  An  hour  before  my  departure  came  an 
order  to  be  ready  for  a  movement  at  any  moment,  and  as 
several  of  us  were  encumbered  with  trunks  and  other  com- 
forts of  home,  deemed  superfluous  luxuries  in  camp,  it  seemed 


THE  PENINSULAR  CAMPAIGN.  269 

doubly  advantageous  that  I  should  proceed  to  White  House 
and  see  to  their  safe  storage.  About  the  same  time  sprang 
up  a  faintly  whispered  report  of  some  disaster  on  our  right 
wing,  at  a  distance  from  our  position ;  but  none  seemed  to 
credit  it,  so  opposite  was  it  from  what  we  were  expecting. 
Some  panic  was  said  to  have  existed  at  White  House,  from 
apprehensions  of  another  raid ;  that,  too,  was  deemed  a  mere 
frightful  memory  of  the  former  disaster  in  that  neighborhood. 
It  did  seem  best,  however,  if  a  movement  were  soon  to  be 
made,  to  at  once  disencumber  ourselves  of  all  extra  baggage 
and  money,  and  other  valuables,  and  then  we  should  be  all 
ready  for  action.  So  at  nightfall  I  started  for  the  White 
House,  sorry  to  be  absent  even  an  hour  from  camp,  but  as- 
sured of  being  back  again  the  next  morning. 

"  I  found  on  arriving  at  White  House  that  all  was  confu- 
sion. The  Quartermaster  would  store  no  more  baggage. 
Adams's  express-office  had  abruptly  departed,  and  it  did 
seem  for  a  while  as  if  all  things  under  my  charge  must  be 
abandoned  to  their  fate.  I  was  counselled  to  take  that 
course,  indeed,  but  refused,  and  finally  succeeded  in  getting 
a  guard  stationed  over  my  baggage,  which  was  left  in  the 
open  air  on  the  river-bank  till  morning.  Where  I  was  to 
sleep  was  a  difficult  problem.  Many  tents  were  struck  al- 
ready, the  steamers  were  crowded,  and,  homeless  and  shelter- 
less, I  stood  on  the  river's  bank  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
hungry,  weary,  but  afraid  to  sleep  on  the  ground  with  so 
many  valuables  intrusted  to  my  •  charge  on  my  person,  yet 
utterly  exhausted.  At  last  I  did  manage  to  lie  down,  without 
mattress  or  blanket,  amid  a  group  of  sleepers  on  the  floor  of 
a  steamer's  cabin,  and  there  slept,  and  slept  soundly  too.  No 
New  England  servant  but  would  '  throw  up  his  commission,' 
abandon  the  service  very  quickly,  had  he  such  fare  and  lodg- 
ing as  is  the  choicest  given  to  officers  or  soldiers  in  the 
Grand  Army.  It  is  well  enough,  doubtless,  that  we  should 


270  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

thus  learn  to  prize  the  comforts  of  home.  Next  morning  I 
succeeded  in  getting  all  my  stores  and  valuables  into  the 
hands  of  a  trusty  messenger  of  Adams's  express,  and  getting 
my  pass,  proceeded  at  an  early  hour  to  the  railroad  station 
to  take  passage  for  my  regiment;  but  alas  for  such  plans 
and  my  hopes !  just  as  the  train  was  about  to  leave  for  its 
destination,  tidings  came  that  the  station  above  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  rebels,  and  our  communication  with  the  main 
army  by  railroad  cut  off.  Of  course  there  was  no  way  to  be 
taken  but  to  go  down  the  river  in  a  steamer  to  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, and  thence  up  the  James  River  to  some  point  whence  the 
main  army  can  be  reached  again.  To  go  forward  any  other 
way  would  be  to  advance  '  onward  to  Richmond,'  and  visit 
that  city  a  little  prematurely.  I  prefer  to  go  there  with  my 
own  regiment,  in  due  time,  rather  than  under  rebel  escort 
now. 

"  Then  ensued  a  destruction  of  all  stores  and  buildings, 
which  was  fearful,  yet  grand  to  contemplate.  All  supplies 
were  put  on  board  schooners  and  transport  steamers,  which 
were  sent  down  stream.  This  was  done  calmly  by  the  mili- 
tary authorities,  but  with  great  energy.  A  vast  deal,  how- 
ever, of  public  property  could  not  be  saved.  Soon  a  large 
encampment  of  tents  was  in  flames.  Two  long  trains  of 
railroad-cars  were  burned,  with  their  contents.  Every  now 
and  then  an  explosion  took  place  which  filled  the  air  with 
fragments  and  towering  columns  of  smoke  and  flame.  A 
huge  storehouse  of  bacon  sent  volumes  of  black  smoke  up- 
ward. The  stores  chiefly  abandoned  were  sutlers'  stores, 
belonging  to  a  class  who  excite  less  sympathy  than  any  other 
in  the  army  when  they  suffer  loss.  One  sutler  abandoned  a 
storehouse  containing  four  thousand  dollars  worth  of  goods ; 
another  of  one  thousand  dollars  in  value.  The  '  boys '  rev- 
elled hi  these,  as  all  things  were  free  that  day,  and  men 
procured  a  good  dinner  or  clothing  outfit  '  without  money 


THE  PENINSULAE  CAMPAIGN.  271 

and  without  price.'  As  they  sorely  needed  one  good  meal  and 
to  be  reclothed,  and  the  sutlers  could  well  afford  the  supply 
from  their  profits,  the  sight  was,  upon  the  whole,  a  pleasant 
one.  All  this  time  the  White  House,  belonging  to  the  rebel 
Colonel  Lee,  stood  unharmed.  It  is  a  modern  structure,  and 
it  is  a  shame  that  any  such  house  should  stand  on  the  site  of 
what  once  was  the  home  of  Washington,  to  shelter  rebels  and 
haters  of  the  country  for  which  he  lived  and  suffered.  Few 
of  us  grieved  when  this  property  of  a  rebel  officer  was  in 
flames,  also,  as  by  its  destruction  nothing  which  Washington 
ever  touched  or  looked  upon  was  consumed. 

"  Meanwhile  the  old  scows,  filled  with  bulky  stores,  were 
burned,  some  wagons  which  could  not  be  removed  were 
burned  or  rolled  over  the  bank  and  broken,  while  old  mus- 
kets, rebel  relics  from  Fair  Oaks,  shovels,  pickaxes,  etc., 
were  committed  to  the  bosom  of  the  Pamunkey,  to  be  con- 
cealed there  in  that  muddy  stream.  Horses  careered  wildly 
about,  terrified  contrabands  brought  over  boats,  while  the  in- 
cendiaries, with  a  good  purpose,  applied  the  torch  on  every 
side.  Surgeons  were  detailed  to  destroy  such  of  the  hospital 
stores  as  could  not  be  removed,  which  they  did  effectually. 
The  scene  was  soon  grander,  wilder,  more  brilliant  than  I 
have  ever  witnessed  before.  The  very  clouds  caught  the 
lurid  glow,  and  reflected  in  radiant  hues  the  sad,  fearful 
splendor  below.  Bursting  bombs  made  noise  like  the  shock 
of  thunder-clouds,  and  scattered  fragments  about  till  earth 
and  sky  seemed  mingled  in  one  awful  conflagration.  The 
old  theories  and  pictures  of  the  judgment-day  seemed  glow- 
ingly actualized  and  painted  anew  on  the  twofold  canvas  of 
earth  and  sky.  That  scene  it  was  a  sorrowful  but  great 
privilege  to  witness !  Since  it  must  have  been  done,  I  am 
glad  to  have  had  such  an  experience.  An  artist  was  sketch- 
ing it,  so  that  some  faint  idea  will  be  given  of  it  to  the  pub- 
lic by  a  sketch  other  than  this  of  words.  O  the  desolation, 


272  CHAPLAIN  FULLER.  ^ 

the  waste  of  war !  When  shall  it  end,  and  a  righteous  peace 
be  declared,  without  compromise  or  surrender  of  justice  or 
the  Union? 

"This  river  upon  which  we  are  now  floating  was  pre- 
viously almost  a  stranger  to  me,  even  by  its  name,  so  little 
euphonious.  It  is  the  most  winding  and  tortuous  stream  1 
ever  saw,  making  such  bends  as  to  give  the  idea,  as  you  see 
steamers  in  the  distance  almost  parallel  with  you,  that  it  is  a 
different  stream  upon  which  they  must  be  floating.  It  plays 
strange  tricks  of  illusion  in  that  way.  It  is  a  singularly  broad 
and  beautiful  stream,  and  were  it  in  New  England  its  banks 
would  be  lined  with  smiling  villages ;  now  scarce  a  house 
is  upon  its  banks,  and  its  shores  are  either  neglected  or  deso- 
late. In  the  stream,  near  where  the  White  House  stood 
yesterday,  is  an  island,  where  live  one  hundred  and  fifty 
Indians,  many  of  them  skilful  pilots,  and  better  agriculturists 
than  any  white  Virginians  on  the  Peninsula.  These  are  the 
remnant  of  the  once  powerful  tribe  of  whom  Pocahontas  was 
one.  They  are  passing  rapidly  away.  So  is,  indeed,  every- 
thing which  once  was  the  glory  of  fair,  but  sinful  and  deso- 
late Virginia." 

When  the  army  reached  Harrison's  Landing,  it  pre- 
sented to  view  many  a  sad  scene.  The  Chaplain 
writes :  — 

"  I  have  been  at  this  hospital  for  most  of  the  past  week, 
not  as  a  patient,  but  caring  to  the  best  of  my  ability  for  the 
wounded  and  suffering  sick  of  my  own  regiment,  and  the 
countless  number  from  the  other  various  regiments  of  the 
loyal  army,  scarce  one  of  which  fails  to  have  more  or  less 
representatives  here.  The  scenes  one  is  called  to  witness 
here  are  terrible.  Ghastly  wounds  innumerable  greet  the 
saddened  vision ;  men,  sick  nigh  unto  death  with  swamp, 
pestilential  fevers,  make  their  weak  moans,  asking  for  pity 


THE  PENINSULAR  CAMPAIGN.  273 

and  for  succor;  exhausted  soldiers,  after  four  days'  hard 
fighting,  with  scarce  any  food,  plead  for  a  piece  of  bread,  or 
they  must  perish  with  hunger ;  the  dying  ask  a  word  of 
counsel  and  of  prayer,  and  to  transmit  some  message  to  wife 
or  child  or  mother  ere  the  last  breath  be  drawn  and  the  last 
sigh  heave  their  panting  bosoms.  The  dead,  too,  lie  on  the 
earth  beneath  the  sweet  heavens,  and  their  dumb,  passionless 
forms  require,  as  their  once  spirit-tenants  have  deserved, 
that  those  bodies  lately  instinct  with  vigorous  life  should  be 
decently  buried. 

"  Beautifully  situated  is  this  building  where  we  now  are. 
The  James  River  flows  silently  by,  its  gleaming  waters  whit- 
ened with  countless  sails  rafting  supplies  to  the  hungry  army, 
or  its  else  placid  face  ruffled  by  the  steamers  which  come 
daily  to  the  landing,  bringing  hospital  stores  to  the  wounded 
and  sick,  and  returning  down  the  stream  laden  with  those 
whose  only  hope  of  recovery  or  future  usefulness  lies  in  the 
revisiting  of  their  homes  and  the  solace  of  care  and  kindness 
there.  Lofty  elms  line  the  avenue  which  leads  to  this  dwell- 
ing, and  the  gigantic  cottonwood  interlaces  its  branches  with 
the  lordly  oak,  though  causing  its  vigor  to  decay,  and  blight- 
ing by  its  contact.  The  cottonwood-tree  grows  almost  en- 
tirely in  the  South,  and  is  its  representative  tree,  as  the  oak 
is  of  the  North.  As  these  trees  intertwine  and  mingle,  yet 
have  distinct  organic  life  and  diverse  qualities,  so  has  it  been 
with  the  North  and  South.  Shall  it  ever  be  so  again,  or 
must  the  axe  be  laid  at  the  root  of  the  institution  of  one  of 
them,  and  the  soil  sown  afresh  with  some  seed  which  shall  bear 
a  growth  homogeneous  with,  and  not  destructive  to,  the  other  ? 
This  is  the  base  of  the  new  line  of  operations.  It  is  beauti- 
ful, and  has  solid  advantages.  May  its  superstructure,  the 
noble  army,  once  of  the  Potomac,  meet  with  substantial  suc- 
cess, and  win  laurels  which  shall  be  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of 
all  loyal  Americans  and  of  the  friends  of  freedom  throughout 
12*  K 


CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

the  world.  To-day  that  army  is  war-worn,  and  its  purposes 
temporarily  baffled;  but  such  men,  fighting  in  such  a  cause, 
cannot  be  permanently  defeated;  for 

1  Freedom's  battle  once  began, 
Bequeathed  from  bleeding  sire  to  son, 
Though  baffled  oft,  is  ever  won.' 

"  Lovely  as  is  this  situation,  it  is  not  more  beautiful  than 
the  dwelling-house  which  is  in  the  centre  of  the  town  and  its 
skirting  woods.  It  is  a  fit  gem  for  such  an  emerald  and  beau- 
tiful setting.  The  house  is  of  ancient  brick,  imported  from 
England  many  years  since,  whence  also  came  the  carved 
panel-work  and  cornices  in  the  rooms.  President  Harrison 
is  reported  to  have  been  born  in  this  house,  so  it  has  an  his- 
toric interest  already,  and  will  have  more  in  the  future.  It  is 
elegantly  furnished  with  rosewood  and  black-walnut  furniture. 
Fine  pictures  look  down  upon  you  from  the  walls,  and  the 
library  is  filled  with  costly  volumes,  many  of  them  books 
which  have  crossed  the  Atlantic  ere  reaching  here.  Around 
the  house  cluster  some  twenty  or  more  whitewashed  build- 
ings, hi  which  the  one  hundred  and  twelve  plantation  slaves 
lived,  if  theirs  can  be  called  life,  and  not  existence  only.  The 
owner  of  this  house  and  all  its  surroundings,  the  owner,  in 
man's  sight,  but  not  God's,  of  all  these  human  beings,  is  Pow- 
hatan  B.  Stark,  M.  D.,  now  a  surgeon  in  the  rebel  army, 
and  claiming  to  be  a  lineal  descendant  of  Pocahontas.  He 
fled  precipitately  when  our  transports  lined  the  shores,  carry- 
ing off  to  Petersburg  all  the  household  jewels  and  the  most 
valuable  slaves  also,  and  ordering  the  house  to  be  burned  by 
those  remaining,  an  order  they  did  not  see  fit  to  obey.  He 
told  such  slaves  as  could  not  be  hurried  away,  that,  if  they 
were  asked  by  the  Yankees  whether  they  wished  to  be  free, 
to  state  that  '  they  are  and  always  have  been  as  free  as  they 
wanted  to  be';  that  order,  too,  they  have  failed  to  obey, 
but  shout  hallelujahs  over  their  deliverance  from  a  bondage 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  275 

which,  though  not  as  heavy  as  usual,  was  nevertheless  griev- 
ous, as  slavery  must  ever  be  to  the  soul  of  a  man  made  in 
the  image  of  God." 

The  Chaplain's  labors  in  these  fearful  scenes  were 
publicly  acknowledged.  An  army  correspondent 
says  :  — 

"  I  know  but  little  of  the  theological  notions  of  Chaplain 
Fuller,  but  I  can  tell  you  that  he  has  got  the  name,  in  the 
army  where  he  is  known,  of  '  a  man  going  about  doing 
good.'  It  matters  not  how  poor  or  how  degraded  a  man  is 
who  comes  in  contact  with  Mr.  Fuller,  he  withdraws  from 
that  contact  a  better  man.  'None  know  him  but  to  love 
him.'" 

Another  writes :  — 

"  Prominent  among  those  who  are  active  in  relieving  the 
sufferings  of  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  I  notice  the  Rev. 
Arthur  B.  Fuller,  Chaplain  of  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts 
Regiment.  Mr.  Fuller  has  been  busy  at  the  hospital  from 
morning  till  night,  administering  medicines  and  words  of 
comfort  to  such  as  were  in  need." 

Shortly  before  the  Sixteenth  Regiment  unexpectedly 
left  Fortress  Monroe,  the  Chaplain  had  obtained  a  fur- 
lough. On  his  way  home  the  movement  reached  his 
ears,  and  he  immediately  retraced  his  steps,  writing 
the  following  letter  to  his  family :  — 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  by  not  meeting  you  this 
week ;  and  it  is  painful  to  turn  back  to  increased  hardship, 
when  my  face  was  once  set  homeward.  But  I  learned  last 
evening,  on  board  the  boat,  that  my  regiment  had  moved  for- 
ward to  occupy  SewalPs  Point,  and  thence  to  Norfolk.  I 
cannot  leave  them  in  their  hour  of  peril,  when  perhaps  my 
prayers  and  counsel  may  be  especially  valuable.  This  is 


276     ^  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

the  first  really  active  service  of  the  Sixteenth.    Its  hardships, 
its  privations,  its  dangers,  I  too  must  share." 

When  the  summons  came  to  join  the  Peninsular 
army,  he  writes  to  his  home  :  — 

"  God  be  praised  that  we  are  permitted  to  do  something  to 
serve  our  country !  May  He  who  doeth  all  things  for  his 
glory  and  man's  welfare  secure  for  us  a  splendid  triumph 
over  the  forces  of  rebellion  and  treason !  I  pray  for  my 
country's  redemption,  and  that  even  through  war  may 
come  that  freedom  for  which  the  bondman  sighs,  that  unity 
which  is  the  strength  of  a  nation,  that  righteousness  which  is 
her  highest  glory !  " 

From  the  battle-field  he  writes  home :  — 

"  I  am  enduring  much  privation  in  the  way  of  food,  cloth- 
ing, and  exposure.  But  I  do  not  think  it  manly  to  write 
particulars,  as  you  desire ;  indeed,  I  endeavor  not  to  think 
about  it.  Almost  every  day,  and  sometimes  twice  a  day,  I 
go  out  with  the  regiment  in  line  of  battle.  I  deem  this  my 
duty.  For  nine  days  I  had  no  change  of  raiment,  not  even  a 
clean  shirt  or  handkerchief,  and  lived  on  hard  crackers  and 
sour  coffee.  But  God  blesses  my  labors,  particularly  among 
the  sick  and  wounded,  and  I  am  far  enough  from  repining. 
Of  all  places  in  the  world,  I  am  glad  I  am  here  now.  I  find 
no  physical  fear  to  be  mine.  This  is  a  mere  matter  of 
organization,  not  merit.  Meet  me  on  earth,  if  it  may  be  ;  in 
heaven,  surely.  And  know  that  nothing  will  make  me 
swerve  from  my  fealty  to  God,  to  Christ  his  Son,  to  my  fam- 
ily, my  State,  and  my  COUNTRY." 

But  the  Chaplain's  body  was  unequal  to  his  spirit, 
and  sank  under  disease  caused  by  exposure  and  hard- 
ship. His  sickness  was  so  severe  that  the  physicians 
pronounced  it  incurable  in  the  Virginia  climate.  He 


THE  PENINSULAR   CAMPAIGN.  277 

was  urged  to  seek  the  recovery  of  health  at  home. 
Among  others,  Hon.  Frank  B.  Fay,  Mayor  of  Chel- 
sea, who  labored  in  the  army  on  the  errand  of  mercy 
and  philanthropy,  visited  him  and  urged  him  to  re- 
turn. His  agency  had  much  to  do  on  this  occasion 
in  restoring  the  Chaplain  in  life  to  his  family,  as  it 
finally  was  instrumental  in  furnishing  to  them  the  sad 
consolation  of  weeping  over  his  remains  and  paying 
them  the  mournful  rite  of  sepulture. 


CHAPTER    V. 


SHADOWS. 

"  0  country,  marvel  of  the  earth 

0  realm  to  sudden  greatness  grown  ! 
The  age  that  gloried  in  thy  birth, 

Shall  it  behold  thee  overthrown  ? 
Shall  traitors  lay  that  greatness  low  ? 
No,  Land  of  Hope  and  Blessing,  no ! 

"  And  we  who  wear  thy  glorious  name, 
Shall  we,  like  cravens,  stand  apart, 
When  those  whom  thou  hast  trusted  aim 
The  death-blow  at  thy  generous  heart  f 
Forth  goes  the  battle-cry,  and  lo  ! 
Hosts  rise  in  harness,  shouting,  No  !  " 

BRYANT. 

HAPLAIN  FULLER  returned  to  his  family 
broken  in  health  and  depressed  in  spirits. 
The  sufferings  he  had  witnessed  were  enough 
to  overshadow  a  sensitive  and  sympathetic 
temperament,  such  as  his  ever  was.  Disease,  too, 
contracted  in  the  malarious  swamps  of  Virginia,  had 
fastened  a  hold  upon  him  most  difficult  to  be  shaken 
off,  and  death  seemed  waiting,  at  a  brief  remove,  to 
make  the  finale  of  sickness.  But  it  was  not  these 
things  that  clouded  the  mind  of  the  Chaplain.  It 
was  the  disappointment  worse  than  death  which  had 
snatched  victory  from  the  expecting  army,  deferred 
the  doom  of  Rebellion,  and  cast  a  gloom  over  the 
loyal  nation. 


SHADOWS.  279 

To  share  a  joy  or  sorrow  with  others,  we  know, 
intensifies  the  sentiment,  giving  it  a  multiplied  force. 
This  almost  all  have  experienced,  when  the  individual 
heart  has  shared  the  sentiment  of  the  circle  of  family 
or  friendship,  or,  still  more,  when  it  has  beat  in  con- 
cordance with  the  emotion  of  a  popular  assembly. 
But  it  is  impossible  adequately  to  describe,  and  diffi- 
cult to  realize  without  actual  experience,  the  power  of 
an  emotion  in  which  the  hearts  of  a  nation  throb  in 
unison.  Such  was  the  revulsion  of  popular  feeling 
when  it  was  at  length  understood  that  the  enterprise 
against  Richmond  had  actually  been  abandoned,  and 
the  grand  army  reduced  to  a  remnant.  The  blow  was 
broken  by  veiling  the  news  under  the  name  of  "  strat- 
egetic  movement  "  and  "  change  of  base."  But  the 
shock  vibrated  through  the  loyal  nation.  Rebellion 
once  more  raised  its  vaunting  crest,  and  loyal  resolu- 
tion was  tried  by  a  stern  ordeal. 

Previous  reverses,  the  "  three  stinging  bees "  of 
Bull  Run,  Big  Bethel,  and  Ball's  Bluff,  had  only 
roused  and  exasperated  Union  patriotism  to  fresh  en- 
terprise. This  new  and  great  disaster  stunned  the 
nation  for  a  moment ;  it  ran  so  counter  to  public  ex- 
pectation and  to  confident  hopes  held  out  to  the  public 
to  the  very  last,  and  was  so  inexplicable,  considering 
the  advantages  of  recent  success  and  of  numerical 
superiority  enjoyed  by  the  Federals,  at  the  outset  cer- 
tainly, and  up  to  the  last  days,  if  not  throughout  the 
tedious  protraction  of  the  Union  advance.  Yet  there 
was  little  disposition  to  accuse  or  recriminate,  or  even 
whisper  of  betrayal.  The  disappointment  was  deep 
and  mute  ;  as  nature  often  seems  to  be,  after  some 


280  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

dread  convulsion,  or  as  in  the  drama  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse it  is  said,  after  the  opening  of  the  seventh  seal, 
"  there  was  silence  in  heaven  about  the  space  of  half 
an  hour." 

The  effort  of  Pope  to  retrieve  the  fortunes  of  the 
day  with  his  little  army  of  forty  thousand,  expecting 
aid  from  the  Peninsular  army,  which  a  portion  failed 
to  render,  was  foiled,  after  the  Union  army  had  fought 
for  many  days,  with  unprecedented  bravery  and  endur- 
ance, in  a  fiery  furnace  of  repeated  battles. 

But  the  nation  aroused  itself  to  fresh  efforts.  In 
response  to  the  call  of  government  for  a  new  army, 
municipalities  and  individuals  poured  out  money  like 
water  to  encourage  enlistments,  and  nobler  motives 
induced  heroes  of  every  condition  in  life  to  leave 
home  pursuits  and  the  bosom  of  the  loved  family,  to 
buckle  on  the  patriot's  armor.  A  host  of  half  a  million 
came  forward  as  if  by  enchantment. 

During  most  of  the  summer,  Chaplain  Fuller  was  a 
very  sick  man.  For  a  time  the  flame  of  life  flickered 
so  low  that  it  seemed  about  to  expire.  He  was  un- 
concerned for  himself,  though  so  fully  conscious  of 
his  condition  that  he  made  some  suggestions  as  to  his 
funeral.  But  skilful  medical  care,*  devoted  nursing, 
and  especially  the  brightened  aspect  of  public  deter- 
mination and  renewed  confidence,  contributed  to  his 
gradual  and  partial  recovery.  As  soon  as  his  malady 
would  permit  any  exertion,  he  raised  his  voice  in 
public  to  encourage  enlistments.  But  the  returning 
violence  of  his  disorder  compelled  him  to  desist  from 
such  efforts. 

*  His  physician  was  Dr.  Otis  E.  Hunt,  of  Weston,  Massachusetts. 


SHADOWS.  281 

Now  came  the  rebel  invasion  of  Maryland,  finally 
repulsed,  with  the  aid  of  the  new  levies,  at  the  bloody 
field  of  Antietam.  Soon  another  campaign  was  in- 
augurated against  Richmond,  and  the  Chaplain  deter- 
mined to  rejoin  the  army,  though  his  health  was  by  no 
means  restored.  He  bade  a  tender  farewell  to  the 
loved  ones  at  home  he  was  never  to  see  again  in  the 
body,  and  departed  in  the  latter  part  of  October,  1862, 
to  share  in  the  renewed  struggle. 

Under  date  of  November  4th,  he  gives  an  account 
of  his  journey,  and  thus  speaks  of  the  Citizens'  Volun- 
teer Hospital  in  Philadelphia :  — 

"  This  noble  institution  is  another  monument  of  the  un- 
tiring zeal  and  ardent  patriotism  of  the  worthy  men  and 
devout  women  in  the  city  of  brotherly  love.  It  is  under 
the  combined  care  of  the  government  and  citizens.  The 
writer  returning,  still  an  invalid,  to  his  regiment,  then  at 
Alexandria,  found  the  journey  too  great  for  his  strength, 
and  was  taken  again  ill  in  Philadelphia.  Finding  it  impos- 
sible to  proceed,  I  was  about  seeking  such  ease  and  care  as 
an  inn  affords  in  these  bustling  days,  when  it  was  announced 
to  me  that  an  army  hospital  just  opposite  the  depot  was  open 
night  and  day,  and  there  could  be  obtained  the  medical 
attendance  and  the  kind  care  I  required.  Nor  did  the  state- 
ment prove  illusory.  Though  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  the 
hospital  was  still  open,  and  benevolent  physicians  and  nurses 
were  ready  and  anxious  to  be  of  service  to  the  sick  and  suf- 
fering. I  found  it  even  so ;  the  good  Father  had  put  it  into 
the  hearts  of  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia  to  build  this  hos- 
pital just  in  the  place  where  it  was  wanted,  that  weary  and 
sick  officers  and  soldiers  need  not  have  a  long  and  painful 
ride  or  march  before  the  kindness  of  the  excellent  men  and 
women  of  the  city  should  be  exerted  in  care  of  the  ill  or 


282  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

wounded.  Six  weeks  ago,  not  a  stick  of  timber  was  on 
this  spot;  now  a  comfortable  edifice  is  here,  its  arrange- 
ments not  yet  completed,  but  all  deficiencies  more  than 
supplied  by  the  unpaid  yet  devoted  services  of  the  best 
physicians  and  some  of  the  most  cultivated  gentlemen  and 
ladies  to  be  met  with  in  any  city.  Here  I  found,  as  daily 
visitants,  wealthy  and  refined  men  and  women,  who  were  un- 
wearied in  their  acts  of  kindness  and  attention.  God  bless 
them !  I  entered  there  a  stranger,  yet,  leaving  at  the  close 
of  a  few  days,  felt  that  I  had  formed  ties  of  friendship  which 
time  or  death  can  never  sunder,  and  which  shall  be  perpetu- 
ated in  that  land  where  *  the  inhabitant  shall  not  say,  I  am 
sick,'  and  where  no  battle  shall  cause  ghastly  wounds,  or 
exposure  on  the  tented  field  make  the  frame  languid  and 
weary,  but  where  the  tree  of  life  shall  cover  all  with  its 
outstretched  arms  and  'its  leaves  be  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations.' 

"  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  I  was  sufficiently 
recovered  to  visit  many  sick-beds  in  that  hospital.  Here  I 
found  several  ill  or  wounded  whose  nativity  was  in  loved 
New  England.  I  noticed  also  a  fine  youth,  a  Scotch  clergy- 
man's son,  from  Canada.  He  belonged  to  the  Cameron 
(Scotch)  Regiment  of  Highlanders,  of  whom  ninety  only 
remain,  having  survived  the  hardships  and  wounds  of  the 
battle-field  and  the  stern  ordeal  of  their  rough  campaign. 
All  the  others  have  been  discharged  from  the  ranks,  or 
have  perished  by  disease  or  wounds.  Their  leader,  the 
brother  of  Secretary  Cameron,  was  killed  early  in  the  war. 
One  youth  from  Vermont  was  evidently  dying.  He  seemed 
glad  to  have  prayer  offered,  and  all  our  dear  New-England 
boys  welcomed  service  from  one  of  their  own  region.  In- 
deed, the  religious  element  was  a  pleasant  feature  of  this 
hospital.  Regular  services  are  held  each  Sabbath,  and  it 
was  a  request  of  the  soldiers  that  your  correspondent  should 


SHADOWS.  283 

hold  a  short  service  with  them  each  evening  while  he 
stayed.  I  never  saw  any  audience  of  more  reverent,  eager 
listeners  than  those  suffering  men.  They  realize,  as  few 
civilians  do,  the  need  of  religious  support  and  comfort,  and 
welcome  the  humblest  effort  to  afford  it.  And  here  let  me 
say  that,  contrary  to  the  usual  impression,  no  class  of  men 
are  more  receptive  of  religious  instruction  than  those  who 
compose  our  loyal  army.  War  develops  the  worst  and  the 
best  traits  of  character.  The  Gospel  among  the  soldiers 
may  meet  with  bitter  opposition  from  some,  with  earnest 
welcome  by  others,  but,  if  rightly  presented,  is  heard  with 
indifference  by  very  few.  The  next  morning  our  Vermont 
soldier  died.  It  was  pitiful  to  hear  his  cries  for  mother  and 
sister  then.  They  were  perhaps  far  off  among  the  green 
hills ;  or  did  he  see  them  at  that  home  in  the  heavenly  land, 
beckoning  him  on,  as  he  was  about  to  cross  the  portals  of 
death?  Be  this  as  it  may,  his  last  whispered  word  was 
that  which  I  have  noted  as  one  of  the  three  which  most 
often  tremble  on  dying  lips,  as  it  is  indeed  the  first  which 
those  lips  have  uttered,  —  MOTHER.  The  other  two  are 
home  and  heaven. 

"  Resuming  my  journey  when  a  few  days  had  given  suffi- 
cient strength,  I  reached  Alexandria,  and  found  the  Sixteenth 
Massachusetts  encamped  on  the  most  beautiful  spot  I  have 
ever  yet  seen  selected  for  an  encampment.  It  is  the  brow 
of  a  high  hill,  near  Fairfax  Seminary,  about  five  miles  from 
Alexandria.  By  day,  the  wide  prospect  of  rich  autumnal 
forest,  crowning  hill  and  decking  valley,  is  glorious  beyond 
adequate  description ;  and  on  a  moonlight  night,  the  soft  light 
on  the  landscape,  and  the  gleaming  watch-fires  from  a  hun- 
dred forts  or  camps,  present  a  scene  surpassing  the  dreams 
of  fairy-land.  The  air  here  is  as  pure  as  the  breath  of 
heaven,  and  the  debilitated  and  suffering  men  of  Hooker's 
old  and  brave  division  were  fast  recovering,  when  marching 


284  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

orders  came,  a  day  or  two  since,  and  they  have  gone  to 
the  battles-field.  It  was  cheering  yet  sorrowful  to  take  by 
the  hand  again  the  officers  of  this  noble  regiment  and  my 
brave  soldier-boys,  if  I  can  longer  call  '  my  boys '  those  who 
are  now  the  veterans  and  tried  warriors  of  many  a  hard- 
fought  battle.  Never  did  I  feel  prouder  of  them ;  never 
sadder,  than  when  I  saw  so  many  wasted  forms  or  noted  how 
thinned  their  ranks,  or  marked  the  solemn  silence  as  I  asked 
after  this  man  and  that  whom  I  had  left  alive,  and  now 
learned,  by  that  silence  or  a  single  monosyllable,  was  —  dead. 
Yet  not  dead ;  such  heroes  must  live,  on  other  heights  than 
these,  in  fields  elysian,  and  be  pronounced  by  the  great  Cap- 
tain of  our  salvation  conquerors  and  more  than  conquerors 
through  Him  that  loved  them.  They  have  but  joined  that 
silent  throng  who  compose  the  army  of  the  living  God,  and 
are  ever  marching  on  through  Emmanuel's  land,  and  shall 
one  day  make  heaven  echo  with  their  '  Glory  hallelujah,'  as 
they  chant  the  praises  of  Hun  whom  God  gave  as  a  '  Leader 
and  Commander  to  his  people.'  " 

He  writes  with  a  more  full  and  free  expression  of 
his  heart  to  his  family,  never  expecting  it  to  meet  the 
public  eye :  "I  have  reached  my  regiment  safe  and 
sound.  How  warm  the  greeting,  both  upon  the  part 
of  officers  and  men  !  My  own  family  could  not  be 
more  cordial  and  more  affectionate.  It  touched  my 
heart.  "The  poor  sick  men  clasped  my  hands  and  said, 
1  Oh,  we  have  missed  you  so  much ! '  I  went  from 
company  to  company,  shaking  hands  with  the  officers 
and  men,  and  came  near  shedding  tears  myself,  when  I 
found  how  much  they  had  suffered,  and  how  many 
were  missing,  prisoners,  wounded,  and  dead !  I  feel 
now  that  my  sickness  was  providential.  I  should  have 
died  months  ago,  had  I  remained  in  the  regiment  going 


SHADOWS.  285 

through  such  a  terrible  campaign.*  I  was  a  little  sick, 
and  slept  in  the  hospital,  last  night,  but  feel  quite  well 
this  beautiful  morning,  and  shall  occupy  my  own  tent. 
It  was  right  that  1  came  back.  Sorry  as  I  am  to  have 
left  you,  I  should  never  have  been  happy,  without  at 
least  bidding  these  dear  officers  and  men  good-by. 
Nor  should  I  have  known  how  much  they  loved  me. 
I  never  had  a  parish  equally  enthusiastic.  Many  came 
to  the  foot  of  the  hill  to  meet  me  and  carry  my  valise, 
and  pressed  about  me  with  offers  of  service.  The  men 
who  were  sick  at  Harrison's  Landing  declare  that  they 
owe  their  lives  to  me,  and  I  am  praised  much  beyond 
my  deserts." 

The  Chaplain  found  plenty  of  occupation,  and  he 
never  confined  himself  to  the  limited  duties  of  the 
regiment,  but  cheerfully  extended  his  labors  to  the 
army  division.  He  writes :  "  I  work  very  hard 
among  the  sick  and  dying  soldiers.  We  have  five 
large  buildings  and  several  tents  crowded  with  more 
than  five  hundred  sick  men,  and  only  two  surgeons  in 
attendance,  and  my  services  are  greatly  needed." 

His  regiment  was  soon  sent  forward,  but  the  sur- 
geon pronounced  the  Chaplain  disabled  by  the  state 
of  his  health  from  accompanying  them.  He  writes 
home  to  his  family :  "  I  shall  care  for  my  health  and 
life  as  much  as  I  can  consistently  with  duty,  but  I 
shah1  cheerfully  bear  such  hardships  as  are  inevitable." 
Again  he  says,  in  the  same  confidential  communica- 
tion :  f  "  I  may  rejoin  my  regiment,  who  have  been 

*  The  regiment  had  a  prominent  share,  not  merely  in  the  Peninsular 
battles,  but  in  the  subsequent  severe  engagements  of  General  Pope. 
t  It  is  hoped  that  the  reader  will  bear  in  mind  throughout  these 


CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

sent  to  the  front  of  the  line  of  battle.  If  I  could  en- 
dure marching  and  hunger  and  sleeping  on  the  cold 
ground,  without  even  a  tent  to  shelter  me,  I  would  go 
at  once,  having  no  fear  of  rebel  bullets,  but  I  do  not 
want  to  throw  my  life  away.  There  are  fifty-two  of 
the  Sixteenth  Regiment  sick  here,  and  it  is  plainly 
my  duty  to  stay  with  them,  as  the  sick  are  my  chief 
charge." 

He  soon  determines  to  make  another  experiment  of 
camp-life.  He  writes :  — 

"  Duty  calls  me  to  rejoin  the  brave  Sixteenth  Regiment  at 
Manasses,  to  bear  and  suffer  with  them  such  hardships  as 
they  shall  be  called  upon  to  endure.  Pray  Heaven  this  war 
be  speedily  ended,  and  all  our  trials  over ;  but  may  it  not  end 
by  dishonorable  compromise  or  one  backward  step  by  our 
good  President,  or  by  hoisting  the  white  flag  of  surrender,  or 
trailing  our  starry  flag  in  dishonor  before  the  columns  of  the 
rebels,  who  bear  the  black  flag  of  piracy  and  the  stars  and 
bars  of  treason.  Better  war  than  dishonor.  Better  still  give 
up  our  heart's  blood  in  brave  battle,  than  give  up  our  prin- 
ciples in  cowardly  compromise.  '  Nothing  is  ever  really  settled 
that  is  not  settled  right.'  May  the  adjustment  of  our  national 
troubles  be  upon  the  immutable  basis  of  justice  to  all  men, 
freedom  to  all,  and  that  basis  shall  be  as  firm  as  the  rock  of 
ages,  and  the  peace  built  upon  it  shall  be  enduring  as  is 
eternal  righteousness." 

A  recurrence  of  his  disorder  detains  him  a  few 
days,  during  which,  however,  he  visits  the  sick.  He 
thus  describes  the  Fairfax  Seminary  Hospital :  — 

"  This   beautiful   cluster   of  buildings  is  in   our  imme- 

pages  that  most  of  the  Chaplain's  references  to  himself  were  made  in 
the  intimacy  of  confidential  correspondence,  and  without  a  thought  of 
publicity. 


SHADOWS.  287 

diate  vicinity.  They  were  previously  occupied  by  an  Epis- 
copal Theological  School,  but  several  of  the  professors  were 
disloyal,  and  the  school  is  removed  or  discontinued  during 
the  war.  The  owners  are  emphatically  loyal  men,  and  the 
buildings  are  rented  by  the  government  for  our  sick  and 
wounded.  Eleven  hundred  names  were  on  the  list  as  patients 
yesterday,  many  of  these  from  Massachusetts.  The  little 
burial-ground  here  is  sown  thick  with  soldiers'  graves.  Three 
large  barracks  for  the  sick  have  been  erected,  besides  the  five 
brick  buildings.  0  how  wasteful  of  human  life  is  war,  and 
how  fearful  the  guilt  of  the  traitors  and  rebels  who  have 
brought  such  devastation  upon  the  whole  land  and  filled  so 
many  homes  with  mourning !  I  was  glad  to  have  looked  out 
from  the  cupola  of  the  seminary  ere  descending  into  the 
chambers  of  pain.  I  could  not  have  enjoyed  the  prospect 
above  and  about  me,  though  glorious  in  the  crimson  and 
golden  splendor  of  autumn,  had  I  first  seen  the  wounded 
in  those  rooms  below.  And  yet  we  need  often  to  ascend 
some  height  of  vision  and  look  above  and  far  beyond  us, 
that  we  may  not  lose  sight  of  the  purposes  of  Heaven,  or  of 
the  brilliant  future  which  it  shall  give  us  as  the  recompense 
of  all  this  sickness,  pain,  and  death.  Yes,  we  need  to  turn 
from  the  bloody  and  fearful  work  of  war  for  a  time,  to  hear 
no  more  the  stifled  groan  of  anguish,  that  we  may  behold  the 
works  of  God,  and  believe  from  all  this  evil  he  will  educe 
good.  God  is  ever  beneficent  and  kind,  and  working  out  his 
good  purpose,  whether  the  skies  are  serene  and  the  earth 
mantled  in  autumnal  robes  of  glory,  or  whether  the  sky  be 
overcast  and  stormy,  and  the  earth  covered  with  its  cold 
and  snowy  mantle.  He  is  around  and  above  us,  too,  in 
times  of  peace  and  gladness,  or  now  when  war  makes 
gloomy  our  horizon  and  fills  our  hearts  with  sadness. 
Above  the  clangor  of  war's,  clarion,  above  the  roar  of  the 
cannon,  more  penetrating  than  the  groans  of  the  sick  and 


288  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

wounded  and  dying  of  this  dreadful  hour  of  strife,  let  us  hear 
his  voice  saying,  as  our  Saviour  did  on  earth,  '  Lo,  it  is  I,  be 
not  afraid;  peace,  be  still!'  He  who  makes  'the  wrath  of  the 
heathen  to  praise  him/  shall,  by  even  this  fearful  war,  advance 
the  cause  of  permanent  peace,  of  true  liberty,  and  a  national 
prosperity  founded  on  righteousness." 

He  sees,  too,  the  convalescent  and  the  paroled 
camps,  which  are  in  the  neighborhood.  He  writes 
respecting  them:  — 

"  These  two  camps  adjoin  one  another,  and  are  about  two 
miles  from  this  place.  I  visited  them  yesterday  to  see  such 
Massachusetts  men  as  might  then  be  within  their  limits. 
About  five  thousand  soldiers  from  all  the  loyal  States  are 
now  in  the  convalescent  camp.  The  men  are  located  each 
State  by  itself.  In  the  Massachusetts  portion  of  the  camp  I 
found  all  in  admirable  order,  and  every  tent  and  street  kept 
with  perfect  neatness.  All  are  comfortably  cared  for ;  but  I 
was  sorry  to  see  some  of  our  new  recruits  already  in  hospital, 
and  some  who  should  have  been  rejected  at  home,  and  thus 
their  lives  and  health  saved,  and  the  government  not  saddled 
with  the  incubus  of  soldiers  unfit  to  do  a  day's  duty.  The 
surgeons  of  our  State  are  as  careful  as  those  of  any  other,  but 
more  care  is  still  needed  everywhere. 

"  A  part  of  this  camp  is  devoted  to  the  reception  of  recruits 
sent  hither  for  all  the  army,  and  yet  another  part  to  stragglers 
from  the  ranks.  This  part  I  did  not  visit,  having  no  desire 
to  look  men  in  the  face  who  flee  their  country's  service  or 
leave  the  post  of  duty,  without  adequate  cause,  at  such  a 
time  as  this." 

Of  the  paroled  camp  at  Annapolis  he  writes :  — 

"  Here  are  over  seven  thousand  men,  who  have  tasted  all 
the  bitterness  of  rebel  bondage  in  Richmond  and  other  Con- 
federate prisons.  They  give  a  fearful  account  of  their  hard- 


SHADOWS.  289 

ships  and  privations  during  captivity,  and  the  brutality  with 
which  they  generally  were  treated. 

"  While  in  the  camp,  some  four  hundred  and  eighty  pris- 
oners, just  paroled,  arrived  from  Richmond.  They  were 
destitute,  cold,  and  hungry.  Their  overcoats  had  been  taken 
from  them  by  their  rebel  captors,  and  they  had  suffered 
much  from  hunger,  but  not  more,  they  said,  than  their  jailers 
themselves ;  for  the  rebel  army  are  fearfully  destitute  of 
clothing  and  provisions." 

He  thus  refers  to  Annapolis :  — 

"  Coming  to  Annapolis  on  Saturday,  I  was  struck,  even  in 
the  twilight,  with  the  forsaken,  dull  aspect  of  Maryland's 
capital.  The  day  revealed  its  location  as  exceedingly  beau- 
tiful, but  with  none  of  that  thriving,  progressive  aspect  which 
marks  the  appearance  of  every  Northern  community,  where 
slavery  does  not  curse  and  destroy  with  its  blight  and  mil- 
dew. The  Capitol  is,  indeed,  a  finely-proportioned  building, 
erected  long  since,  even  before  the  Revolution ;  and  from  its 
lofty  dome,  a  most  glorious  landscape  lies  spread  out  like  a 
scenic  panorama  before  the  vision.  Thence  you  behold  the 
city,  with  its  curious  squares,  and  intersecting  streets,  and 
antique  buildings,  while  the  river  winds  its  devious  way,  in 
beautiful  undulations,  about  and  through  the  city." 

A  military  funeral  calls  him  to  the  burial-ground. 
He  writes :  — 

"O,  how  crowded  that  burial-ground  is  with  those  who, 
full  of  hope,  and  inspired  by  earnest  patriotism,  and  many 
of  them  by  devout  religious  zeal  and  motive,  volunteered 
for  the  suppression  of  this  foul  and  treasonable  rebellion 
which  now  makes  our  land  desolate !  Shall  all  these 
sacrifices  be  in  vain  ?  Shall  these  young,  precious  lives 
be  offered  up  on  our  country's  altar,  and  naught  be  ac- 
13  s 


290  CHAPLAIN  FULLEB. 

complished  by  it  ?  Not  so !  not  so  !  but  God  shall  yet 
permit  us  to  dwell  in  a  land  purified  of  the  foul  stain  of 
slavery,  and  the  American  nation  shall  become  a  regenerate 
people,  loving  liberty  and  working  righteousness.  How  long, 
O  Lord  !  how  long  ere  this  shall  be  ?  Tens  of  thousands  of 
Christian  soldiers  on  the  tented  field  pray  thee  to  hasten  the 
dawn  of  that  glad  day ;  while  lonely  wives  and  mothers  and 
children  in  our  homes  echo  their  prayer,  and  while  the 
souls  of  our  martyrs  in  heaven  take  up  the  cry  of  earth, 
and  mingle  its  prayers  with  their  praise,  as  they  too  say, 
'  How  long  ere  thou  avenge  us  and  our  brethren  and  fellow- 
witnesses  for  Liberty,  whose  blood  calleth  from  beneath  thy 
altar?'" 

Of  the  convalescent  camp  at  Alexandria  he  writes :  — 
"  On  Sunday  last,  in  company  with  several  members  of  the 
Sanitary  Commission,  I  visited  this  large  encampment,  and 
accepted  an  invitation  of  its  commanding  officer  to  hold  re- 
ligious service  there.  As  the  camp  contains  some  fifteen 
thousand  men,  there  was  work  enough  to  do  without  trench- 
ing upon  the  duties  of  the  newly-appointed  chaplain  of  this 
camp,  who,  indeed,  welcomed  me  and  shared  in  the  services 
of  the  occasion.  His  Honor,  Mayor  Fay  of  Chelsea,  and  his 
niece,  so  kind  and  attentive  to  the  sick  soldiery,  were  also  of 
our  number,  and  several  members  of  the  Christian  Commis- 
sion were  likewise  present,  and  aided  in  the  singing  and  by 
distribution  of  religious  reading.  I  think  I  never  was  present 
on  an  occasion  more  interesting.  The  singing,  in  which  the 
soldiers  joined  heartily,  lent  it  a  charm,  and,  independent  of 
the  inadequate  words  spoken,  the  fact  that  such  a  listening 
throng  of  soldiers,  all  far  from  home  and  from  so  many  differ- 
ent States,  were  assembled,  and  all  eager,  all  attentive,  all 
apparently  longing  for  some  earnest  utterance  of  needed  truth, 
might  well  have  touched  every  heart-string.  Truly  it  was 
good  to  be  there." 


SHADOWS.  291 

The  hope  of  the  Chaplain  to  be  able  to  share  the 
hardships  of  the  campaign  with  his  regiment  was  dis- 
appointed. The  diet  and  exposure  at  once  renewed 
the  violence  of  his  malady,  incapacitated  him  for  duty, 
and  sent  him  to  the  hospital,  to  be  a  hinderance  instead 
of  a  help.  He  is  reluctantly  brought  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  must  conform  to  the  army  surgeon's  advice, 
and  relinquish  it.  He  writes  home  :  "  You  can  hardly 
realize  the  pain  I  felt  when  I  found  I  could  not  share 
the  field  campaign  without  throwing  away  health  and 
life.  I  love  the  regiment,  and  believe  their  feeling 
toward  me  to  be  so  cordial  that  I  am  very  reluctant  to 
sever  the  tie."  * 

He  was  consoled,  however,  by  the  prospect  of  serv- 
ing his  country's  cause  in  a  new  position.  He  writes 
to  his  family :  "  The  President  of  the  United  States 
promises  me,  through  Senator  Clark,  a  commission 
with  full  powers  as  chaplain  in  a  hospital  or  stationary 
camp.  The  Surgeon-General  gives  the  same  assur- 
ance. But  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  resign  my 
present  position  before  assuming  the  new.  I  go  to  the 

*  The  following  is  the  surgeon's  certificate  and  order:  — 

"  HOSPITAL  OF  16  MASS.  VOLS., 
Warrenton  June.,  Va.,  Nov.  16,  1862. 

"  I  do  hereby  certify  that  Rev.  A.  B.  Fuller,  Chaplain  of  the  16th 
Mass.  Vols.,  has  been  under  my  care  since  his  return  from  absence  on 
sick  leave,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  his  state  of  health  precludes  all 
idea  of  his  remaining  in  the  field.  I  find  that  he  has  Chronic  Diarrhoea, 
and  that  his  disease  is  aggravated  by  exposure  to  cold,  injudicious  diet, 
or  fatigue. 

"  It  is  by  my  order  that  the  said  officer  of  this  regiment  remains  be- 
hind in  Alexandria  or  Washington  till  such  time  as  competent  surgeons 
pronounce  him  fit  to  return  to  his  post. 

"  C.  C.  JEWETT, 
Surg.  16  Mass.  Vols." 


292  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

camp  at  Falmouth  to-morrow  morning,  in  order  to  re- 
sign.    I  do  this  with  much  regret." 

The  following  is  a  published  account  of  his  leave- 
taking  with  his  regiment :  — 

"  On  Sunday,  Dec.  7,  the  regiment  was  drawn  up  in  a 
hollow  square,  at  the  close  of  dress-parade,  for  the  .purpose 
of  holding  religious  services  and  hearing  the  farewell  address 
of  their  chaplain.  The  services  were  deeply  interesting. 
Rev.  Mr.  Fuller  expressed  his  great  regret  in  parting  with 
the  regiment,  whose  officers  and  soldiers  he  regarded,  after 
so  many  hardships  and  perils  shared  together,  as  his  broth- 
erg.  Nothing  but  the  state  of  his  health,  which  had  suf- 
fered greatly  from  exposure  hi  the  field,  induced  him  to 
leave  them.  He  should  not  cease  his  care  for  the  soldiers, 
but  according  to  his  ability  should  continue  to  minister  to 
their  wants,  temporal  and  spiritual.  If  the  convalescent 
camp  at  Alexandria  were  made  a  post-chaplaincy  he  should 
probably  be  appointed  there,  and  he  sought  the  place  be- 
cause thejje  was  most  suffering  and  most  opportunity  for 
usefulness.  If  it  were  not,  he  had  nevertheless  been  as- 
sured by  the  proper  authorities  of  a  chaplaincy  in  a  hos- 
pital, as  soon  as  he  resigned  his  position  in  the  regiment,  and 
hi  either  place  he  would  find  abundant  field  for  labor  and 
usefulness.  He  closed  with  a  fervent  prayer  for  the  blessing 
of  Heaven  upon  our  noble  chief  magistrate,  our  country,  its 
brave,  loyal  army,  and  the  gallant  and  heroic  regiment  with 
whom  he  had  seen  so  much  peril  and  exposure,  and  whose 
members  would  ever  find  hi  their  chaplain  a  friend,  wherever 
and  whenever,  in  the  future,  the  lines  of  their  lives  should 
meet." 

On  the  9th  of  December  he  writes  his  last  letter,  in 
which  he  says :  — 

"  For  nearly  a  year  and  a  half  I  have  been  constantly 


SHADOWS.  293 

with  my  regiment,  except  when  absent  from  sickness,  and 
have  learned  to  regard  its  noble  officers  and  brave  soldiers  as 
brothers  and  its  camp  as  a  home,  second  only  in  affection  to 
my  own  domestic  household.  I  am  here  once  more,  not  alas ! 
long  to  remain,  for  exposure  to  the  Virginia  summer's  heat 
and  winter's  cold,  together  with  privations  and  hardships 
necessarily-  incident  to  campaigns  such  as  ours  have  been, 
these  have  done  their  work,  and  for  years  I  can  scarcely 
hope  to  be  as  well  in  the  future  as  I  have  been  in  the  past ; 
but  I  have  no  complaints  to  make  or  regrets  to  express ; 
what  I  have  seen  is  worth  all  it  has  cost,  and  I  thank  God 
it  has  been  my  high  privilege  to  be  with  our  loyal  and  heroic 
army  during  its  hours  of  trial  and  danger.  If  any  regret 
were  mine,  it  would  be  that  I  am  not  able  to  remain  with 
my  regiment  longer ;  but  this  is,  doubtless,  in  God's  provi- 
dence, all  right,  and  I  am  grateful  that  in  some  hospital  or 
stationary  camp  I  am  still  able  to  labor  on  for  the  officers 
and  soldiers  of  our  army,  for  whom  in  hours  of  sickness,  or 
when  wounded  and  suffering,  none  of  us  can  do  too  much. 
Meanwhile  I  am  here,  home  again  for  a  little  while." 

On  the  10th  of  December,  his  resignation  was  ac- 
cepted, and  he  received  an  honorable  discharge.* 

*  The  following  is  the  order:  — 

"  HEAD-QUARTERS  CENTRE  GRAND  DIVISION. 

Camp  near  Potomac  Creek,  Va., 

"Special  Orders,  No.  26.  December  10,  1862. 

"The  following-named  officers,  having  tendered  their  resignations,  are 
honorably  discharged  from  the  military  service  of  the  United  States,  on 
surgeon's  certificate  of  disability. 

"  By  command  of  Major-General  Hooker, 

"  Chaplain  ARTHUR  B.  FULLER,  16  Mass.  Vols 

"JOSEPH  DICKENSON,  A.  A.  Gen'/." 


CHAPTER    VI. 


FREDERICKSBTJRG. 

"  Nothing  in  his  life 

Became  him  like  the  leaving  it ;  he  died 
As  one  that  had  been  studied  in  his  death." 

"  I  must  do  something  for  my  country  ! " 

HE  Union  army  had  been  replenished,  the 
invading  rebels  driven  back,  and  a  new  ad- 
vance was  now  made  upon  Richmond.  The 
Peninsula  route  had  proved  the  most  unfa- 
vorable that  could  have  been  selected,  not  only  by 
reason  of  the  marshy  and  unhealthy  ground  to  be 
traversed,  but  because  it  necessitated  a  division  of  the 
Union  army.  The  advance  up  the  Peninsula  did  not 
cover  Washington,  and,  unless  a  force  were  kept  about 
the  city  and  in  the  region  lying  between  it  and  Rich- 
mond, a  very  obvious  and  eifective  mode  of  defence 
would  be  left  to  the  enemy,  who  would  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  seize  upon  the  Federal  capital.  If  Rich- 
mond could  thereby  be  taken,  it  would  be  a  poor 
exchange  in  every  point  of  view ;  nor  could  it  be  sup- 
posed that  the  Federal  army  would  continue  to  move 
against  the  Rebel  stronghold  when  their  own  capital 
was  assailed.  The  Rebels  had  means  of  transportation 
by  which  they  could  advance  upon  Washington  almost 


FREDEEICKSBURQ.  295 

before  the  movement  was  known,  and  much  sooner 
than  the  Federal  army  could  be  transferred  from  the 
Peninsula  for  its  defence.  This  was  proved  in  the 
sequel  by  Jackson's  raids  against  the  insufficient  armies 
which  were  kept  as  a  guard  between  Washington  and 
Richmond.  And  the  reflecting  mind  will  be  satisfied, 
that  it  would  have  been  the  height  of  imprudence  to 
add  to  the  great  host  of  the  Peninsula  the  small  armies 
of  Banks  and  McDowell  and  the  few  undisciplined 
forces  detained  about  Washington.  The  result  must 
have  been  the  ruinous  loss  of  the  Federal  capital,  while 
it  is  by  no  means  demonstrable  that  the  further  in- 
crease of  the  vast  army  upon  the  Peninsula  would 
have  changed  its  fortunes.  History  will  not  ascribe 
the  failure  of  that  campaign  to  lack  of  numbers  or 
deficiency  of  courage  in  the  troops,  or  want  of  ample 
munitions  of  war. 

A  route  was  chosen  for  the  new  advance  upon 
Richmond,  via  Fredericksburg,  which  would  at  least 
have  the  advantage  of  not  leaving  Washington  un- 
covered. The  campaign  commenced  under  critical 
circumstances.  The  time  of  the  nine-months  volun- 
teers was  wearing  away,  and  unless  some  important 
blow  were  struck  before  their  term  had  expired,  the 
cost  of  them  to  the  country  would  be  thrown  away,  nor 
would  they  easily  be  persuaded  to  enlist  again,  while 
it  would  be  still  more  difficult  to  obtain  fresh  recruits. 

The  cry  was,  from  every  part  of  the  loyal  country, 
for  an  important  victory.  This  would  restore  public 
confidence,  reduce  the  premium  on  gold,  and  lure 
forth  silver  change  from  its  hoarding-places,  while  it 
gave  to  business  a  fresh  impulse. 


296  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

This,  too,  would  repress  the  disloyal  element  in 
the  Free  States,  which  Federal  reverses  had  embold- 
ened to  come  forth  from  its  hiding-places  and  take 
advantage  of  the  absence  of  loyal  voters  in  the  vol- 
unteer armies,  to  make  itself  felt  in  the  elections, 
while,  though  pretending  loyalty,  it  sought  popular 
pretexts  against  the  government. 

To  obtain  this  most  needed  victory,  it  was  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  revive  the  enthusiasm  and  con- 
fidence of  the  army,  which  had  been  somewhat  de- 
pressed by  finding  that  the  unflinching  valor  and 
endurance  of  the  rank  and  file  had  not  availed  to 
win  decisive  success,  or  even  to  avoid  disastrous 
reverses. 

Great,  therefore,  was  the  anxiety  with  which  the 
nation  regarded  the  new  campaign.  A  decisive  battle 
it  was  expected,  must  soon  be  fought,  as  it  was  not 
supposed  that  the  Rebels  would  retire  to  Richmond 
without  a  sanguinary  contest.  But  should  the  Union 
army  prevail  in  the  battle,  it  was  believed  that  vic- 
tory would  this  time  be  so  promptly  followed  up  as 
to  make  sure  of  the  capture  of  Richmond,  and  with 
this  capture  the  war  would  be  practically  ended. 

In  this  state  of  public  expectation,  the  army  of  the 
Potomac  advanced  from  Aquia  Creek  till  it  reached  the 
Rappahannock.  It  was  determined  to  cross  the  river  at 
the  city  of  Fredericksburg,  although  this  purpose  was 
disguised  by  feints  at  other  points.  The  design  was 
rendered  patent  to  the  enemy  by  a  delay  of  many 
days,  caused  by  the  failure  to  furnish  the  requisite 
pontoon-bridges.  Summons  to  surrender  and  notice 
to  remove  women  and  children  also  preceded  the 


FREDERICKSBURG.  297 

attack  for  several  days.  Meanwhile  tlie  active  foe 
had  fortified  heights  at  the  distance  of  two  or  three 
miles  in  the  rear  of  Fredericksburg,  while  they  re- 
fused to  surrender  the  city,  and  took  measures  to 
obstruct  the  crossing  of  the  stream. 

The  llth  day  of  December,  1862,  was  the  day  fixed 
for  the  passage  of  the  Rappahannock.  The  pontoon- 
bridges  had  been  conveyed  to  its  banks,  during  the 
previous  night,  and  one  hundred  and  forty-three  pieces 
of  artillery  had  been  so  placed  as  to  command  the 
city.  During  the  night  rockets  had  been  seen  to  rise 
within  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  and  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  as  the  Federals  began  to  construct  three 
pontoon-bridges,  two  signal-guns  were  fired  by  the 
Rebels. 

At  six  o'clock,  when  the  pontoon-bridges  were  half 
completed,  a  murderous  fire  from  the  enemy,  under 
cover  of  the  houses  in  Fredericksburg,  was  opened 
upon  our  infantry  and  upon  the  engineers  engaged  in 
constructing  the  pontoons,  and  the  latter  were  driven 
from  their  work. 

Thus  the  enemy  took  advantage  of  General  Burn- 
side's  forbearance  toward  the  city ;  and  such  forbear- 
ance ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  The  order  was  now  given 
for  all  the  guns  to  be  opened  upon  the  city.  The  can- 
nonade was  terrific,  and  the  main  body  of  the  enemy's 
infantry  was  compelled  to  retire.  Yet,  upon  a  fresh 
attempt  to  construct  the  pontoons,  it  was  found  by  the 
enemy's  fire  that  they  were  still  in  sufficient  force  in 
the  city  to  render  the  work  impracticable.  Again  our 
artillery  was  opened  upon  the  city,  firing  it  in  several 
places.  Yet  the  enemy  were  not  induced  to  evacu- 

13* 


298  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

ate.  By  this  time  it  got  to  be  noon.  The  Federals 
now  placed  every  available  battery  in  position,  and,  at 
a  given  signal,  opened  upon  the  city  a  terrific  cannon- 
ade of  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  guns.  The  con- 
centrated thunder  of  this  artillery  exceeded  any  pre- 
viously heard  during  the  war.  The  shot  and  shell 
went  crashing  through  the  houses,  firing  them  in  many 
places.  The  smoke  of  the  conflagration  and  of  our 
own  artillery  almost  hid  the  city  from  view. 

It  was  now  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  under 
the  belief  that  the  enemy  had  been  forced  to  retire,  the 
work  upon  the  pontoons  was  resumed.  But  the  fire  of 
their  sharpshooters  from  cellars,  rifle-pits,  fences,  and 
every  available  shelter,  was  still  so  deadly,  that  the 
pontoons  could  not  be  laid.  A  new  expedient  must 
be  adopted.  The  main  body  of  the  enemy  had  un- 
questionably retired,  and  though  the  sharpshooters 
were  evidently  numerous,  they  were  of  necessity 
somewhat  scattered,  and  might  not  resist  a  bayonet- 
charge,  could  it  be  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  But 
how  could  the  Federals  be  got  over  the  river  ?  The 
boats  at  hand  would  not  transport  much  over  a  hun- 
dred, and  during  their  transit  they  would  furnish  marks 
for  more  than  a  hundred  rifles.  To  select  a  particular 
company  for  so  hazardous  a  service  might  be  invidious, 
and  should  they  obey  with  unwillingness  or  hesitation, 
their  example  might  have  a  damaging  influence.  It 
was  resolved  to  call  for  volunteers  ;  for  thus  not  only 
would  those  engaged  in  the  service  be  best  adapted  to 
it  by  the  possession  of  superior  bravery,  but,  in  case  of 
a  fatal  result,  should  all  or  the  greater  number  of  them 
be  killed  or  wounded  or  taken  prisoners,  they  could  not 


FEEDERICKSBUEG.  299 

reproach  their  commander  with  requiring  of  them  a 
desperate  service. 

The  call  was  made  for  volunteers.  Would  it  be 
responded  to  ?  If  not,  it  would  scarcely  then  be  prac- 
ticable to  resort  to  compulsion.  The  crossing  of  the 
river  must  be  abandoned,  while  at  the  same  time  a 
reproach  was  put  upon  the  courage  of  the  army,  and 
their  failure  in  the  crisis  must  have  a  demoralizing  in- 
fluence. Nor  was  this  the  only  evil  to  be  anticipated. 
This  was  the  first  engagement  of  the  army  of  the  Po- 
tomac under  the  command  of  Burnside.  How  many 
there  were  at  hand  to  say,  "  Ah !  this  proves  that  he 
cannot  command  the  enthusiasm  of  the  army !  The 
change  of  generals  has  ruined  the  Federal  cause.  This 
results  as  we  expected."  How  important  to  prove,  in 
that  hour,  that  the  Federal  army  was  composed  of 
patriotic  hearts,  who  understood  and  prized  principles 
more  than  men,  and  were  too  devoted  to  their  coun- 
try's cause,  too  enlarged  and  intelligent,  to  identify 
their  cause  with  any  general,  even  if  he  enjoyed  the 
popularity,  inexplicable  on  the  score  of  success,  which 
partisan  clamor  asserted  on  behalf  of  a  past  commander. 

Chaplain  Fuller  was  the  man  to  appreciate  these 
considerations,  and  to  feel  the  momentous  issue  of  that 
hour  through  every  pulse  and  fibre  of  his  enthusiastic 
nature.  And  he  was  upon  the  spot,  watching  with 
anxious  concern  the  events  of  the  day.  He  had,  in- 
deed, been  discharged  from  all  official  obligations  to 
the  army;  but  not  from  the  higher  duty  which  had 
called  him  to  his  army  mission.  On  leaving  Washing- 
ton to  resign  his  chaplaincy,  he  had  said  that  he  should 
return  in  a  few  days,  unless  he  learned  there  was  to 


300  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

be  a  battle.  In  that  event  he  should  be  present  at  the 
conflict.  To  minister  to  the  wounded  and  dying,  on 
such  an  occasion,  and  to  inspirit  the  soldiers  by  his 
sympathy  and  uncompulsory  presence  amid  their  dan- 
gers, required  no  army  commission.  He  could  do  this 
as  one  of  the  self-commissioned,  devoted  lovers  of  God 
and  man,  who  attended,  like  good  angels,  upon  the  army 
in  its  contests,  receiving  their  compensation  in  no 
earthly  coinage. 

The  view  which  he  took  of  his  duty  in  the  emer- 
gency which  now  presented  itself,  and  the  considera- 
tions which  rapidly  passed  through  his  mind  and  in- 
duced him  to  make  one  of  the  volunteers,  we  are  left 
to  infer  from  knowledge  of  his  character  and  circum- 
stances ;  for  our  inquiries  in  all  quarters  have  not 
obtained  information  of  any  conversation  which  he  had 
previous  to  the  act.  Indeed,  it  is  scarcely  probable 
that  in  his  decision  he  made  any  oral  statement  of  his 
motives.  It  was  a  time  for  action,  and  not  words.  Yet 
those  who  knew  him,  and  we  trust  those  who  have 
read  these  pages,  need  no  verbal  exposition  from  the 
Chaplain  to  understand  his  motives. 

Should  one  in  his  position  respond  to  this  call  for 
volunteers,  it  would  indicate  no  common  devotion.  It 
was  a  duty  which  could  not  be  required  of  him.  And 
for  one  of  his  profession  to  consistently  engage  in  this 
enterprise  would  prove  his  strong  conviction  that  it 
was  a  work  so  holy,  so  acceptable  to  God,  that  even 
those  set  apart  for  sanctuary  service  might  feel  called 
to  have  a  hand  in  it.  His  prowess  was  nothing ;  yet 
it  was  not  his  unpractised  right  arm,  but  his  heart, 
which  he  devoted  to  the  service,  and  which  would  tell 


FREDERICKSBURG.  301 

on  the  result,  not  merely  of  that  special  enterprise  nor 
of  that  battle  only,  but,  by  affording  a  powerful  proof 
of  love  of  country  outweighing  considerations  of  safety 
and  life,  would  have  the  influence  which  a  living  ex- 
ample, and  only  a  living  example,  can  have. 

It  is  easy  now  to  say  that  it  was  unnecessary  for  the 
Chaplain  to  volunteer  ;  there  would  have  been  enough 
without  him.  Such  an  excuse  would  have  availed 
every  volunteer.  The  chaplain  did  not  belong  to  that 
large  class  who  wait  for  others,  and  refrain  from  self- 
sacrifice  in  a  good  cause,  under  the  pretext  that  there 
are  enough  others  to  sustain  it.  The  first  impulse  of 
such  a  movement  must  be  improved.  Waiting  for 
others  quenches  its  spirit  and  makes  it  abortive.  His 
immunity  only  rendered  his  volunteering  more  strik- 
ing, and  more  influential  in  the  contagion  of  example. 

The  sudden  emergency  in  which  the  Chaplain  de- 
cided in  a  moment  how  to  act,  was  wholly  unexpected 
by  him.  He  was  arrayed  in  the  uniform  of  a  staff 
officer,  which  made  him  a  special  mark  for  the  sharp- 
shooters. He  had  been  cautioned,  early  in  the  day, 
against  exposing  himself,  and  reminded  that  as  he  had 
his  discharge  on  his  person,  he  would  not  be  exchanged 
if  taken  prisoner,  and  if  he  were  killed  his  family 
would  not  be  entitled  to  a  pension.*  He  had  also 
valuables  with  him.  And  there  was  no  time  to  place 
them  in  security  or  to  change  his  costume.  That  the 
Chaplain  loved  home  dearly,  has  fully  appeared  from 
evidence  furnished  in  these  pages.  That,  though  he 
was  a  stranger  to  fear,  he  was  careful  not  to  throw 

*  An  army  officer  informs  us  that  he  made  these  suggestions  to  the 
Chaplain. 


302  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

away  his  life,  even  in  the  cause  he  loved  dearest,  that 
of  his  country,  his  correspondence  proves.  We  are 
led  to  the  conviction  that  he  deemed  the  issue  of  the 
hour,  and  the  influence  he  might  have  upon  it,  of  more 
importance  than  the  life  which  he  staked.  He  volun- 
teered, musket  in  hand,  and  crossed  the  river  in 
safety ;  but  fell  soon  after  entering  Fredericksburg, 
pierced  with  two  bullets,  the  one  entering  his  chest 
through  his  arm  upraised  to  discharge  the  musket,  the 
other  piercing  his  hip.  A  third  bullet  struck  his  breast 
laterally,  tearing  his  coat  and  vest,  but  inflicting  no 
wound. 

Sergeant  Hill  of  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regi- 
ment informs  us  that  he  was  the  Chaplain's  guest  at 
his  last  dinner,  on  the  day  of  his  death.  "  He  asked 
all"  says  the  Sergeant,  "to  partake  with  him, — 
teamsters,  sergeants,  and  myself.  I  told  him  I  feared 
he  had  none  too  much  for  himself.  '  O  yes  ! '  he  said, 
he  had  plenty.  And,  whatever  he  had,  he  always 
wished  to  share  with  those  around  him." 

The  following  letter  from  Captain  Dunn  to  the 
Chaplain's  brother  gives  an  account  of  the  Chaplain's 
last  moments :  — 

"  In  answer  to  your  inquiries,  I  would  say,  that,  although  I 
had  previously  intended,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  mutual  friend, 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Chaplain  Fuller,  I  saw  him  for 
the  first  time,  in  the  streets  of  Fredericksburg,  on  the  llth 
December  ultimo,  at  about  half  past  three  P.  M.,  where  I 
was  in  command  of  twenty-five  men  deployed  as  skirmishers. 
We  came  over  in  the  boats,  and  were  in  advance  of  the 
others  who  had  crossed.  Pursuant  to  orders,  we  marched  up 
the  street  leading  from  the  river,  till  we  came  to  the  third 


FREDEEICKSBURG.  303 

street  traversing  it,  parallel  with  the  river,  and  called  Caro- 
lina Street,  I  think.  We  had  been  here  but  a  few  minutes 
when  Chaplain  Fuller  accosted  me  with  the  usual  military 
salute.  He  had  a  musket  in  his  hand  ;  and  he  said :  '  Cap- 
tain, I  must  do  something  for  my  country.  What  shall  I 
do  ? '  I  replied,  that  there  never  was  a  better  time  than  the 
present ;  and  he  could  take  his  place  dn  my  left.  I  thought 
he  could  render  valuable  aid,  because  he  was  perfectly  cool 
and  collected.  Had  he  appeared  at  all  excited,  I  should 
have  rejected  his  services ;  for  coolness  is  of  the  first  impor- 
tance with  skirmishers,  and  one  excited  man  has  an  unfavor- 
able influence  upon  the  others.  I  have  seldom  seen  a  person 
on  the  field  so  calm  and  mild  in  his  demeanor,  evidently  not 
acting  from  impulse  or  martial  rage. 

"  His  position  was  directly  in  front  of  a  grocery  store.  He 
fell  in  five  minutes  after  he  took  it,  having  fired  once  or 
twice.  He  was  killed  instantly,  and  did  not  move  after 
he  fell.  I  saw  the  flash  of  the  rifle  which  did  the  deed. 

"  I  think  the  Chaplain  fell  from  the  ball  which  entered  the 
hip.  He  might  not  have  been  aware  of  the  wound  from  the 
ball  entering  his  arm,  as  sometimes  soldiers  are  not  con- 
scious of  wounds  in  battle,  or  he  may  have  been  simultane- 
ously lu't  by  another  rifle.  We  were  in  a  very  expose^  posi- 
tion. Shortly  before  the  Chaplain  came  up,  one  of  General 
Burnside's  aids  accosted  me,  expressing  surprise,  and  saying, 
'  What  are  you  doing  here,  Captain  ?  '  I  replied  that  I  had 
orders.  He  said  that  I  must  retire,  if  the  rebels  pressed  us 
too  hard.  In  about  half  an  hour  I  had  definite  orders  to 
retire,  and  accordingly  fell  back,  leaving  the  Chaplain  and 
another  man  dead,  and  also  a  wounded  man,  who  was  unwill- 
ing to  be  moved.  It  is  not  usual,  under  such  pressing  cir- 
cumstances, to  attempt  to  remove  the  dead.  In  about  an 
hour  afterward,  my  regiment  advanced  in  line  with,  the 
Twentieth  Massachusetts.  They  occupied  the  place  where 


304  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Chaplain  Fuller  fell;  and  they  suffered  very  severely,  it 
being  much  exposed.  The  Chaplain's  body  we  found  had 
been  robbed,  and  the  wounded  man  bayoneted  by  the  rebel 
Vandals,  while  the  ground  was  left  to  them. 

"  I  think,  in  addition  to  Chaplain  Fuller's  desire  to  aid  at  a 
critical  juncture  in  the  affairs  of  his  country,  by  the  influence 
of  his  example  and  his  personal  assistance,  he  may  have 
been  willing  also  to  show  that  he  had  not  resigned  in  the  face 
of  the  enemy  from  any  desire  to  shrink  from  danger. 
"  I  am,  sir,  yours,  &c., 

"MONCENA  DUNN, 
Capt.  19th  Mass.  Volunteers." 

The  Chaplain's  body  was  kindly  cared  for,  as  soon 
as  the  occupations  of  the  battle  permitted,  and  sent 
home  to  his  bereaved  family.  Lieutenant  John  W. 
Hudson,  of  the  Thirty-Fifth  Massachusetts  Regiment, 
writes  that,  from  some  boards  obtained  by  him  and 
Lieutenant  Myrick,  of  Chelsea,  a  box  was  somewhat 
hurriedly  made  by  Charles  Campbell,  of  Wayland, 
and  John  Tasker,  of  Lincoln,  while  exposed  to  a  desul- 
tory shell-fire  from  hostile  guns. 

"  Into  this,  towards  sunset,  we  solemnly  lifted  the  Chap- 
lain's body  from  the  rude  door  on  which  it  lay,  having  cov- 
ered it  with  a  white  cloth.  While  this  was  in  progress, 
Mayor  Fay,  with  a  Chelsea  lady,  who  recognized  the  features 
of  the  deceased,  came  up  and  offered  to  pay  the  expense  of 
transporting  the  body  across  the  river.  Major  Willard  * 
went  in  person  to  procure  the  permission  of  our  General  for 
some  of  our  men  to  pass  with  this  rude  coffin  across  the 
same  bridge  over  which,  two  days  later,  we  mournfully  saw 
the  mortal  remains  of  the  Major  himself  conveyed  in  another 
coffin,  which  ready  hands  had  quickly  improvised. 

*  In  command  of  the  Thirty-fifth  Massachusetts  Regiment 


FREDERICKSBURG.  305 

"  During  our  work,  many  from  Massachusetts  and  New 
Hampshire  regiments  gathered  round,  to  gaze  upon  the  face 
of  a  widely  known  preacher,  an  esteemed  pastor,  a  revered 
and  loved  friend.  Many  of  them  manifested  the  deepest 
interest  in  what  we  were  doing,  and  lingered  about  the  place 
till  our  undertaking  was  accomplished.  Some  spoke  of  the 
Chaplain  as  'their  most  edifying  preacher,'  others  as  'a 
most  valued  adviser,'  and  others  as  '  a  most  faithful  friend.' 
They  offered  to  raise  from  their  ranks  the  means  of  trans- 
portation." 

The  same  writer,  in  describing  the  position  where 
the  Chaplain  fell,  says  :  — 

"  There  were  a  hundred  hiding-places  —  in  cellars,  near 
windows,  and  behind  the  corners  of  houses,  and  under  the 
cover  of  board-fences  and  trees  and  outbuildings  —  from 
which  the  deadly  rifle  might  be  expected  to  send  its  unerring 
bullet,  striking  its  victim  before  the  sound  of  the  discharge 
can  reach  his  ears  ;  and  no  valor  of  his  can  save  him." 

In  explanation  of  the  Chaplain's  self-sacrifice,  he 
refers  to  "  the  need  of  an  example,  even  to  brave  men, 
at  such  critical  moments." 

Miss  Helen  L.  Gilson,  a  niece  of  Major  Fay,  was 
the  lady  referred  to,  in  the  foregoing  letter,  as  accom- 
panying him  at  Fredericksburg,  where  both  were 
busied  in  ministering  to  the  sick  and  wounded,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Sanitary  Commission.  She  has 
sketched,  in  the  following  terms,  some  of  the  last  days 
of  Chaplain  Fuller :  — 

"  For  a  long  tune  had  I  heard  of  Arthur  B.  Fuller  as  a 
devoted  chaplain ;  and  my  interest  had  been  awakened  to  see 
him ;  but  it  was  not  till  a  few  days  before  his  death  that  I 

T 


306  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

had  the  pleasure  of  an  introduction.  I  then  drew  from  my 
pocket  a  well-worn  copy  of  the  Army  Melodies,  of  which  he 
was  one  of  the  editors,  and  told  him  that  I  had  cai-ried  it 
during  the  Peninsular  Campaign,  often  administering  the 
medicine  of  music  to  the  sick  and  wounded ;  and  we  were  at 
once  well  acquainted. 

"The  next  Sabbath,  I  was  one  of  a  party  from  the 
Sanitary  Commission,  who  accompanied  him  to  Camp  Con- 
valescent. We  spent  the  forenoon  in  the  tents,  distribut- 
ing papers  and  books.  Wherever  he  went,  a  crowd  of 
Massachusetts  boys  gathered ;  for  they  all  knew  and  loved 
him.  At  two  o'clock,  the  drum  sounded,  and  some  five  hun- 
dred convalescents  assembled  for  religious  services.  After 
singing,  in  which  all  joined,  he  addressed  them  in  that  simple 
and  earnest  way  which  so  wins  the  attention  of  the  soldiers. 
Every  eye  was  fastened  on  him,  and  each  upturned  face 
caught  his  glow  of  enthusiasm. 

"  I  wish  I  could  remember  all  that  fell  from  his  lips.  I 
can  only  quote  the  following :  '  Why,  boys,'  said  he,  '  you 
know  what  a  thrill  the  cry  of  "  Mail ! "  sends  through  the 
camp ;  and  how  eagerly  we  peruse  the  dear  letters  from 
home.  Now  the  Bible  is  full  of  letters  from  home,  breath- 
ing a  love  dearer  than  that  of  father,  wife,  or  sister.  I  have 
come  to  read  to  you  a  letter  from  our  heavenly  home.  It 
speaks  the  language  of  more  than  human  affection.  Its 
words  are  those  of  encouragement  and  cheer.' 

"  The  face  of  the  speaker  was  lighted  up  with  that  interest 
which  is  more  eloquent  than  speech ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  rain 
and  chill  atmosphere,  not  a  man  moved  from  his  place  until 
the  service  ended. 

"  I  saw  no  more  of  Chaplain  Fuller,  until  we  were  called 
to  identify  his  body  in  Fredericksburg.  He  lay,  surrounded 
by  rebel  sharpshooters,  who  had  fallen  on  the  same  day  with 
him.  Mayor  Fay  immediately  made  arrangements  to  send 


FREDEEICKSBURG.  307 

the  body  across  the  river  to  a  place  of  safety,  preparatory  to 
sending  it  home. 

"  Chaplain  Fuller  will  long  be  mourned  as  one  gifted  with 
peculiar  power,  and  singularly  adapted  to  the  position  which 
he  held  in  the  army.  He  will  ever  be  remembered  as  a 
faithful  Chaplain,  genial  in  intercourse,  and  an  earnest  man. 
God  alone  knows  what  precious  seeds  must  be  sown,  that  the 
full  harvest  may  come.  '  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into 
the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone  ;  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth 
forth  much  fruit.'  More  than  most  of  us  he  believed  in 
sacrifice,  —  in  that  consecrated  giving,  which  includes  what 
we  are  as  well  as  what  we  have." 

Mayor  Fay  caused  the  body  to  be  embalmed  in 
Washington ;  and  it  was  sent  home  to  the  Chaplain's 
friends.  On  Thursday  morning,  just  a  week  after  his 
decease,  his  lifeless  remains  were  borne  back  into  that 
home  mansion  which  had  been  often  animated  by  his 
living  and  loving  presence. 

"  But  0  the  heavy  change,  now  thou  art  gone, 
Now  thou  art  gone,  and  never  must  return !  " 


CHAPTER    VII. 


OBSEQUIES. 

"  Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  forsaken  dies, 

And  every  flower  that  sad  embroidery  wears  : 
Bid  amarantus  all  his  beauty  shed, 
And  daffodillies  fill  their  cups  with  tears, 
To  strew  the  laureate  hearse  where  Lycid  lies." 

UBSEQUENT  to  the  private  ceremony  at 
the  residence  of  his  brother,  the  public  fu- 
neral of  Chaplain  Fuller  took  place  at  the 
First  Church  on  Chauncey  Street  in  Boston 
on  the  24th  day  of  December,  1862.* 

"  The  church  was  crowded  with  the  friends  of  the  deceased, 
who  wished  some  opportunity  to  express  their  sense  of  loss, 
their  respect  for  his  memory,  and  their  estimation  of  his 
character  and  services.  Governor  Andrew  and  staff,  Gen- 
eral Andrews  and  staff,  Chief  Justice  Bigelow,  and  other 
prominent  public  men  were  present.  The  escort  was  per- 
formed by  the  Cadets. 

"  The  coffin  was  placed  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  and  was  pro- 
fusely covered  with  the  most  exquisite  flowers.  One  by  one 
the  wreaths  were  placed  upon  the  lid  by  loving  hands,  as  the 

*  The  funeral  was  under  the  general  direction  of  Messrs.  William  A. 
Krueger  and  Thomas  S.  Williams.  The  pall-bearers  were  Messrs.  Samuel 
Smith,  C.  J.  F.  Sherman,  George  P.  Richardson,  Jr.,  Henry  S.  Dalton, 
Samuel  B.  Krogman,  and  0.  T.  Taylor. 


OBSEQUIES.  309 

best  expression  of  the  cherished  memories  of  the  past.     The 
following  inscription  was  upon  the  plate :  — 

REV.  ARTHUR  BUCKMINSTER  FULLER, 
Chaplain  of  the  16th  Regiment  of 

Massachusetts  Volunteers ; 

Balled   at   the   Battle   of  Fredericksburg,  Va., 

llth  December,  1862, 

Aged  40  years. 
'  I  must  do  something  for  my  Country.' "  * 

The  following  verses  were  sung  from  the  Army- 
Melodies  :  — 

Sleeping  soft,  the  soldier  lies 

Calmly,  in  his  bed  of  blood ; 
Where,  a  living  sacrifice, 
He  his  body  gave  to  God. 

By  salvation's  Captain  led, 

In  the  army  of  the  Lord, 
Battle-fields  a  dying  bed 

Soft  and  glorious  afford ! 
+ 

There  amid  the  rage  of  strife, 

Clash  and  roar  of  conflict  grim, 
While  to  God  he  gives  his  life, 

In  the  storm,  is  calm  to  him. 

The  first  address  was  from  Rev.  Rollin  H.  Neale, 
who  saM :  — 

"  My  principal  difficulty  in  speaking  on  this  occasion  is  in 
controlling  my  feelings  within  just  bounds.  I  have  seldom 
heard  of  a  death  which  so  deeply  affected  me.  My  first  im- 
pression was  a  sense  of  personal  bereavement.  I  could  truly 
say,  (  I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  !  Very  pleasant 
hast  thou  been  unto  me.'  I  would  not  be  unmindful  of  other 
bereavements  which  have  occurred  in  our  midst. 

*  Christian  Register. 


310  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  Putnam  and  Lowell,  Shurtleff  and  Phillips,  Cabot  and 
Willard,  and  other  loved  ones,  are  warm  in  public  sympathy, 
and  the  hearts  of  friends  and  relatives  are  freshly  bleeding 
over  their  graves.  But  I  am  sure  no  one  has  fallen  in  this 
war  more  tenderly  loved,  and  whose  death,  in  the  circle  of 
his  acquaintance,  has  produced  a  profounder  impression  than 
that  of  the  Chaplain  of  the  Sixteenth  Regiment.  His  pub- 
lished letters,  so  characteristic,  frank,  and  full,  have  made 
him  widely  known.  We  have  followed  him  from  scene  to 
scene,  to  Alexandria  and  Fortress  Monroe,  to  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Suffolk  and  the  terrible  field  of  Fair  Oaks,  to  Harri- 
son's Landing,  and  on  board  of  transports,  sometimes  sleeping 
on  the  vessel's  deck  and  sometimes  on  the  bare  ground ;  but 
always  cheerful,  always  active,  encouraging  his  '  boys,'  as  he 
called  them,  —  ministering  to  the  sick  and  the  wounded,  hav- 
ing a  good  word  to  say  of  everybody,  and  evil  of  none.  We 
see  him  ever  manly,  dignified,  uncompromising.  He  never 
conceals  his  sentiments.  He  condemns  rebellion  and  slavery 
in  the  face  of  their  most  earnest  and  bitter  advocates,  and  yet 
in  such  a  tone  of  sincerity  and  kindness  as  to  gain  the  respect 
of  rebel  officers  and  the  confiding  love  of  the  poor  dying 
Southern  prisoner,  whom  he  soothingly  comforted,  and  at 
whose  cot  he  knelt  in  fervent  prayer. 

"  An  ingenuous,  open-hearted,  whole-souled  man  was  our 
departed  friend.  There  was  nothing  little,  mean,  or  selfish 
about  him.  He  was  ready  to  do  a  kind  act  or  perform  any 
service  for  a  friend  without  stopping  to  think  what  might  be 
the  effect  upon  himself.  Some  blame  him,  and  perhaps  he 
was  imprudent,  in  the  worldly  sense  of  the  term,  for  taking  a 
gun  and  going  into  the  ranks.  But  it  was  just  like  him. 
When  the  battle  was  raging,  and  his  men,  his  children,  his 
pastoral  charge,  were  called'  to  face  the  danger,  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  sit  idle  in  bis  tent ;  and  if  he  forgot  his  head- 
ache, and  his  weakened  frame,  and  as  some  say  his  profes- 


OBSEQUIES.  311 

sional  character,  I  should  feel  rebuked  and  ashamed,  if,  as 
his  friend,  I  attempted  to  make  an  apology  for  him.  No,  it 
was  an  act  of  generous  emotion,  of  noble  heroism,  of  self- 
sacrificing  patriotism,  which  will  endear  him  to  his  associates 
in  the  army,  and  place  him  high  among  the  martyrs  in  this 
struggle.  Sure  I  am  that  neither  the  soldiers  to  whom  he 
ministered  as  chaplain,  nor  those  churches  in  New  England 
of  which  he  had  been  the  beloved  pastor,  will  think  the  less 
of  his  religious  character  now  that  his  blood  has  been  poured 
out  in  his  country's  cause. 

"  When  settled  in  this  city  I  became  acquainted  with  him. 
Our  friendship  was  intimate  and  unreserved.  With  his  ear- 
nest, genial,  and  pre-eminently  humane  spirit,  we  forgot  our 
theological  differences,  and  '  wherein  we  were  agreed  walked 
by  the  same  rule  and  minded  the  same  thing.'  Deeply  do 
I  sympathize  with  his  relatives,  his  brothers,  his  bereaved 
wife,  his  orphan  children.  No  public  tribute  to  his  memory, 
no  official  funeral  solemnities,  are  necessary  to  exalt  him  in 
their  estimation.  They  knew  him  at  home,  the  sphere  he 
loved  the  best,  amid  the  thousand  sweet  and  tender  chari- 
ties of  life.  He  loved  the  circle  immediately  around  him, 
and  cherished  an  affectionate  remembrance  of  those  who  had 
previously  been  removed  by  death,  —  esteemed  parents,  a 
lamented  brother,  an  honored  sister. 

"  The  quiet  rural  spot  at  Mount  Auburn  which  he  has 
described  and  carefully  laid  out  and  adorned  for  '  our  family ' 
now  waits  to  receive  all  that  was  mortal  of  himself.  It  is 
hallowed  ground,  fit  emblem  of  the  peaceful  rest  which  his 
weary  spirit  has  now  entered.  No  more  fatiguing  marches. 
Strifes  and  fears  and  dying  groans  shall  agitate  his  soul  no 
more. 

'  No  rude  alarms  of  angry  foes, 

No  cares  to  break  the  long  repose, 

No  midnight  shade,  no  clouded  sun, 

But  sacred,  high,  eternal  noon.'  " 


Rev.  E.  O.  Haven,  D.  D.,  was  the  next  speaker. 
He  said : — 

"  We  see  before  us  to-day  an  extraordinary  sight.  Minis- 
ters of  the  Gospel  of  Christ  of  different  denominations  pay 
their  tribute  of  honor  and  affection  to  a  brother  minister  who 
has  finished  his  course,  —  not  as  is  most  common  for  men  of 
his  profession,  dying  peacefully  among  his  people,  breath- 
ing upon  them  a  benediction,  and  bearing  testimony  to  the 
fidelity  of  the  Saviour  in  the  closing  hour  of  life ;  not,  as  is 
sometimes  the  case,  expiring  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  official 
duty,  and  translated  at  once  from  the  pulpit  to  the  congrega- 
tion of  the  faultless  and  immortal,  —  but  who  died  on  the 
field  of  battle,  clad  in  the  soldier's  garb,  with  deadly  weapons 
in  his  hands,  in  the  forefront  of  terrible  strife. 

"  Many  are  shocked  at  the  thought  of  such  a  scene.  Dis- 
tant lands  will  wonder  when  they  hear  the  report.  It  will  be 
quoted  as  an  indication  of  a  fearful  passion  for  blood  which 
has  usurped  the  American  mind.  There  are  some,  even  at 
home,  who  will  timidly  inquire,  Why  is  this  waste  of  life  ? 
Why  must  the  ambassador  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  subject 
himself  to  the  violence  of  war  ?  Has  there  not  been  a  forget- 
fulness  of  the  proprieties  of  official  dignity  ?  Has  there  not 
been  a  misapprehension  of  the  duties  of  a  Christian  minister  ? 

"  Could  he  whose  mangled  body  now  lies  before  you,  from 
which  the  deadly  bullet  has  expelled  the  noble  Christian  soul, 
rise  again  and  speak  out  as  he  was  wont  to  do  in  ringing 
words,  they  would  not  be  apologetic,  but  words  of  exultation. 
Were  it  possible  for  him  to  be  at  once  fallen  in  battle  and 
yet  alive  with  us,  I  know  that  he  would  fill  our  souls  with  his 
own  holy  enthusiasm.  I  know  that  he  would  make  us  under- 
stand and  feel  the  magnitude  of  his  thought  and  the  love  of 
his  heart,  when  he  offered  to  his  country,  in  what  he  thought 
her  bitterest  trial,  the  sight  of  his  eye  and  the  strength  of  his 
arm,  and  above  all  the  moral  example  of  his  character,  won 


OBSEQUIES.  313 

by  many  years'  devotion  to  the  good  of  his  fellow-men.  He 
offered  all  this  to  his  country,  and  he  did  right.  It  was  an 
overflowing  love.  He  gave  away  his  life  for  liberty  to  all  men, 
instead  of  slavery  for  negroes,  vassalage  for  the  great  majority 
of  the  whites,  and  a  despotism  —  greatest  curse  of  all  —  for  a 
few.  He  offered  his  life  to  inspire  the  army  with  noble  pur- 
pose, and  if  need  be  to  inspire  the  nation.  He  knew  that  his 
life  might  be  taken,  and  is  not  now  surprised ;  but  there  comes 
a  voice  from  his  spirit  to  us  saying :  Waste  not  your  sympa- 
thies in  inactive  sorrow,  but  convert  the  strong  tide  of  your 
emotion  into  vigorous  thought  and  powerful  action.  '  Weep 
not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and  your  children,' 
or  see  to  it  that  they  are  so  protected  as  not  to  need  your 
tears. 

"  He  was  a  brave  man.  He  had  shown  that  long  before  he 
crossed  the  perilous  bridge  and  preceded  the  great  army  in 
their  passage  over  the  Rappahannock.  His  bravery  was  not 
rash  physical  courage.  His  was  a  cultivated  mind  and  a  full 
heart.  Life  was  to  him  full  of  hopes,  affections,  and  ambi- 
tions. He  had  the  poet's  imagination  to  paint  the  future,  and 
the  Christian's  purpose  to  produce  it.  To  him  life  was  in- 
tensely valuable.  The  great  teacher  of  modern  philosophy 
has  said :  '  A  little  philosophy  inclineth  man's  mind  to  athe- 
ism, but  depth  in  philosophy  bringeth  men's  minds  about 
to  religion.'  So  a  little  thought  makes  man  a  coward,  but 
deeper  thought  fills  him  with  courage.  Our  friend  was  brave 
because  he  was  a  man  of  thought,  of  self-control,  of  obedience 
to  God's  law,  and  of  faith.  Such  a  man  cannot  be  timid,  for 
God  is  hi  him.  He  had  long  ago  determined  what  to  live 
for,  —  to  advocate  what  he  believed  to  be  true,  to  benefit 
man,  to  imitate  Christ,  to  honor  God.  That  I  believe  he  has 
tried  to  do.  That  gave  him  the  courage  of  an  apostle.  I  am 
not  speaking  words  of  formal  eulogy,  but  what  the  character 
of  this  good  man  deserves. 

14 


314  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  He  was  a  philanthropist  His  habits  of  thought,  his  mode 
of  expression,  his  life  and  his  religion  were  pre-eminently 
practical.  He  saw  the  desolations  of  alcoholic  drinks  in  this 
and  other  lands,  and  devoted  his  strength  at  once  to  promote 
temperance,  and  deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the  strongest 
advocates  of  total  abstinence  from  intoxicating  drinks.  He 
was  a  friend  of  popular  education,  he  was  a  great  lover  of 
children,  and  contributed  much  influence  to  make  Sunday 
schools  efficient.  He  advocated  every  department  of  prac- 
tical Christianity.  Many  of  the  benevolent  associations  of 
this  city  and  State  have  been  cheered  in  their  anniversaries 
by  his  ready  utterance  and  eloquent  appeals. 

"  When  the  nation  was  suddenly  shocked  by  the  eruption 
of  the  pent-up  volcano  of  treason  and  rebellion,  when  that 
cruel  effort  to  strike  down  constitutional  liberty,  long  foreseen 
by  sagacious  minds,  burst  upon  the  people,  then  such  a  sym- 
pathetic and  patriotic  heart  as  his  could  not  but  be  thrilled 
with  emotion.  His  was  not  a  nature  to  suppress  feeling,  or 
to  consume  it  upon  himself.  He  sought  opportunity  to  speak 
and  to  act.  He  was  soon  in  the  army  as  an  ambassador  of 
Christ,  to  bless  the  soldier  and  strengthen  him  for  his  work. 
His  letters  from  the  camp  and  field  have  been  read  by  thou- 
sands. He  labored  faithfully  for  his  country.  And  when, 
in  the  providence  of  God,  a  crisis  came,  —  an  emergency  for 
which  only  the  noblest  souls  are  fitted,  —  he  sprang  to  the 
post  of  hottest  danger.  The  army  saw,  the  nation  sees,  all 
the  world  shall  know,  how  a  Christian  like  him  can  give  to 
his  country  and  to  right  all  that  he  has,  even  his  life.  God 
accepted  his  offering,  as  he  had  that  of  many  martyrs.  The 
family  name,  highly  honored  before,  has  received  fresh  lustre, 
and  when  the  historian  comes  to  gather,  up  the  jewels  that 
this  terrible  convulsion  has  brought  to  sight,  among  the  names 
that  shall  shine  with  perpetual  light  shall  be  that  of  Arthur 
B.  Fuller," 


OBSEQUIES.  315 

Next  in  order  was  the  following  tribute  from  the 
Rev.  E.  H.  Sears:  — 

"  I  have  no  right  to  speak  of  my  brother  from  any  such 
intimate  relations  as  those  must  have  had  who  met  him  often 
in  the  sphere  of  his  daily  duties.  I  saw  him  last  summer 
when  he  came  into  my  neighborhood  with  his  health  shat- 
tered, his  constitution  perhaps  broken,  in  the  hardships  of  the 
Peninsular  campaign.  Those  who  saw  him  then  must  have 
known,  that  with  him  it  meant  something  to  be  chaplain  of  a 
regiment.  There,  under  the  kind  ministrations  of  wife  and 
brother  and  friends,  and  breathing  the  pure  country  air,  he 
tried  to  drive  out  of  his  system  the  poison  he  had  breathed 
into  it  in  the  swamps  of  the  Chickahominy.  But  even  when 
prostrate  on  his  sick-bed,  his  zeal  for  the  cause  to  which  he 
had  devoted  himself  burned  hi  him  like  a  flame  of  fire,  and 
his  chief  thought  was  to  get  back  to  his  regiment,  to  be 
with  '  his  boys,'  as  he  called  them,  to  share  their  dangers,  to 
minister  to  their  suffering,  to  nurse  the  sick  and  pray  with 
the  dying.  He  returned  before  half  recovered ;  and  when  we 
saw  him  go  away  with  pale  face  and  faltering  steps,  we  trem- 
bled for  his  life,  for  we  thought  he  might  end  it  in  the  hard- 
ships of  the  camp  or  in  the  hospital.  We  did  not  expect  to 
see  him  brought  home  from  the  carnage  of  the  battle-field. 
But  he  took  this  view  of  his  duties  :  '  I  will  not  urge  others 
to  go,'  said  he,  '  where  I  am  not  ready  to  go  myself.  I  will 
not  preach  what  I  am  not  willing  to  practise.  I  will  not  ask 
God's  protection  of  others  in  dangers  which  I  will  not  share.' 
And  so  on  the  eve  of  that  most  terrible  battle  of  all,  when  he 
must  have  known  how  fierce  the  conflict  was  to  be,  when  he 
must  have  known  that  to  thousands  before  nightfall,  '  a 
heavier  sleep  was  coming  fast,  than  seals  the  living  eye,'  he 
placed  himself  in  the  fore  part  of  the  danger,  and  soon  fell 
by  two  mortal  wounds.  And  I  cannot  but  recognize  here 
the  tender  adaptations  of  the  Divine  mercy  as  a  consolation 


316  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

to  his  friends.  If  he  must  fall,  we  could  not  wish  it  other- 
wise. He  was  spared  the  long  agonies  which  others  have 
endured,  spared  from  slow  death  in  the  hospital.  He  passed 
with  one  step  through  the  opening  gate,  and  left  the  tumult  and 
the  agony  behind  ;  one  moment  in  the  battle-storm,  the  next 
moment  with  loved  ones  gone  before  in  the  eternal  calm ! 
The  martyr's  crown,  without  the  martyr's  protracted  suffer- 
ing !  He  died,  in  the  words  of  Job,  '  when  his  glory  was 
fresh  with  him,  and  his  bow  gathered  strength  in  his  hand.' 

"  So,  too,  in  the  time  of  his  death,  if  he  was  to  fall,  there 
is  much  consolation.  It  may  be  that  for  all  our  sins  as  a 
nation  —  which  have  been  very  great  —  the  cause  for  which 
our  brother  has  given  his  life  is  to  fail.  Perhaps  it  may  go 
down,  for  a  time  at  least,  in  darkness  and  blood.  If  so,  who 
of  us  would  not  rather  lie  as  he  does  in  his  peaceful  coffin  ? 
It  is  better  to  die  for  one's  country,  than  to  live  on  with  no 
country  to  die  for.  If  we  are  to  lose  all  we  have  held  most 
sacred  and  dear,  I  would  say  more  truthfully  a  thousand 
times  than  Hector  said  of  the  impending  ruin  of  his  beloved 

Troy, 

'  Let  me  lie  cold  before  that  dreadful  day, 
Pressed  with  a  load  of  monumental  clay.' 

But  if,  as  we  do  believe,  our  country  is  to  rise  through  this 
agony  and  bloody  sweat  to  a  new  and  a  glorified  existence, 
then,  again,  how  could  life  be  given  with  such  large  returns  ? 
The  beauty  of  our  Israel  slain  in  its  high  places  for  this  great 
redemption,  is  raised  up  and  separated  to  the  special  sphere 
of  the  Divine  mercy. 

"  There  is  one  lesson  which  comes  to  us  now,  and  which 
our  brother's  lips  would  speak,  I  doubt  not,  could  they  break 
their  silence  in  this  solemn  hour :  there  are  evils  more  to  be 
feared  than  death ;  and  there  is  something  better  than  life, 
and  for  which  life  may  be  joyfully  given  away.  Do  not 
doubt  that  the  good  will  be  achieved  ;  for  God  never  wastes 
the  blood  of  his  martyrs." 


OBSEQUIES.  317 

The  closing  address  was  from  the  Rev.  James  Free- 
man Clarke  :  — 

"  I  first  knew  Arthur  Buckminster  Fuller  as  a  little  boy. 
Being  a  distant  relative,  I  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  his 
father's  family  while  a  student  at  Cambridge.  They  lived  at 
that  time  in  the  old  Dana  House,  on  the  bend  of  the  road 
from  Boston.  In  the  large,  old-fashioned  parlor,  the  family 
sat  together  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Timothy  Fuller  sitting  by 
one  corner  of  the  open  fire,  with  his  stand,  holding  his  papers 
and  a  lamp,  at  work  preparing  for  his  law  duties  of  the  next 
day,  but  occasionally  taking  part  in  the  conversation,  usually, 
as  I  remember,  in  moderating  what  he  thought  some  too  en- 
thusiastic statement  of  his  daughter  Margaret.  She  sat  talk- 
ing with  her  friends  as  only  she  could  talk,  and  the  younger 
children  studied  their  lessons  or  played  together  ;  and  among 
them  I  well  remember  the  bright  eyes  and  clear,  open  fea- 
tures of  Arthur.  Near  by  sat  the  mother  at  her  work,  serene, 
gentle,  kind,  a  comfort  and  joy  to  all. 

"  Arthur  graduated  at  Harvard  in  the  class  of  1843,  which 
class  contained,  among  other  honored  names,  that  of  the  pres- 
ent President  of  the  College.  He  graduated  from  the  Cam- 
bridge Divinity  School  in  the  class  of  1847.  Among  his 
classmates  at  the  Divinity  School,  one  is  a  minister  of  this 
city,  and  another  is  the  Colonel  of  the  First  Regiment  of 
Carolina  Volunteers  at  Port  Royal.  Mr.  Fuller  went  to  the 
"West,  and  settled  in  Northern  Illinois  as  teacher  and  mission- 
ary. I  well  remember  his  labor  and  his  zeal  in  both  depart- 
ments, for  I  met  him  on  his  field  of  work  on  the  Rock  River, 
and  knew  how  he  put  his  heart  into  it  as  into  all  that  he  did. 
And,  afterward,  when  he  returned  to  New  England,  and  was 
settled  over  various  parishes,  I  saw  him,  always  characterized 
by  the  same  activity  and  devotion.  He  was  an  earnest 
Christian  minister,  believing  in  the  great  doctrine  of  redeem- 


318  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

ing  love  through  Christ,  and  ready  to  take  part  with  every 
Christian  brother  who  was  working  for  the  same  end.  So 
it  happened,  that  he  often  went  over  the  boundary  line  of 
sect,  and  found  himself  side  by  side  in  brotherly  labors  in 
various  religious  and  philanthropic  works  with  those  bearing 
other  denominational  names.  They  did  not  like  him  less  for 
being  a  decided  Unitarian,  finding  in  him  more  points  in 
which  they  could  agree  than  those  in  which  they  were 
obliged  to  differ.  And,  therefore,  we  find  that  they  are  here 
to-day  to  honor  their  friend  as  a  brother  in  many  Christian 
labors,  following,  in  his  own  way,  the  same  Master. 

"  So  have  the  rapid  years  passed  by,  until  this  war  broke 
out,  and  Arthur  felt  it  his  duty  to  go  as  a  chaplain.  Of  his 
services  there  I  am  not  the  one  to  speak,  but  I  know  that  he 
must  have  been  active  and  kind  and  useful  to  the  soldiers, 
for  it  was  his  nature  always  to  be  active,  kind,  and  useful. 

"  Arthur  Fuller  was,  like  most  of  us,  a  lover  of  peace,  but  he 
saw,  as  we  have  had  to  see,  that  sometimes  true  peace  can  only 
come  through  war.  In  this  last  struggle  at  Fredericksburg, 
he  took  a  soldier's  weapon,  and  went  on  with  the  little  forlorn 
hope  who  were  leading  the  advance  through  the  streets. 
He  had  not  been  much  in  battle  before,  but  more  among  the 
sick  in  the  hospitals.  Perhaps  he  thought  it  right  to  show 
the  soldiers  that  in  an  hour  of  emergency  he  was  ready  to 
stand  by  their  side.  So  he  went,  with  a  courage  and  devo- 
tion which  all  must  admire,  and  fell,  adding  his  blood  also  to 
all  the  precious  blood  which  has  been  shed  as  an  atonement 
for  the  sins  of  the  nation.  May  that  blood  not  be  shed  in 
vain.  May  it  be  accepted  by  God  as  a  costly  sacrifice,  and 
may  we  as  a  people,  when  our  necessary  trials  and  punish- 
ments are  sufficiently  endured,  become  that  righteous  and 
happy  nation  God  meant  us  to  be ;  setting  an  example  to 
mankind  of  a  Christian  republic  in  which  there  is  no  master 
and  no  slave,  no  tyrant  and  no  victim,  —  not  a  mere  rabble 


OBSEQUIES.  319 

scrambling  for  gain,  but  brothers  co-operating  in  building  up 
a  grand  commonwealth  of  true  liberty,  justice,  and  humanity 
Let  our  friends  go  or  stay,  let  us  live  or  die,  — 

'  So  we  wake  to  the  higher  aims 
Of  a  land  that  has  lost  for  a  little  her  love  of  gold, 
And  love  of  a  peace  that  was  fall  of  wrongs  and  shames, 
Horrible,  hateful,  monstrous,  —  not  to  be  told, 
And  hail  once  more  the  banner  of  battle  unrolled ! 
Though  many  au  eye  shall  darken,  and  many  shall  weep,  — 
Yet  many  a  darkness  into  light  shall  leap.' 

"  Our  brother  has  fallen  in  the  midst  of  active  usefulness,  in 
a  life  which  seemed  only  half  lived.  He  has  gone  to  join  the 
many  dear-beloved  friends  who  have  preceded  him,  —  the  . 
upright,  industrious  father,  the  saintly,  tender  mother,  the 
noble  child  of  genius,  Margaret,  his  brother  Eugene,  his 
sister  Ellen.  The  few  of  the  family  who  remain  will  miss 
his  active,  useful  friendship  and  brotherly  love.  We  shall 
all  miss  him  from  among  our  thinned  ranks.  But  if  this 
teaches  us  again  how  '  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death/ 
it  teaches  us,  too,  that  in  the  midst  of  death  we  are  in  life. 
To  die  thus,  full  of  devotion  to  a  noble  cause,  is  not  to  die,  — 
it  is  to  live.  It  is  rising  into  a  higher  life.  It  is  passing  up 
into  the  company  of  the  true  and  noble,  of  the  brave  and 
generous,  —  it  is  going  to  join  the  heroes  and  martyrs  of  all 
ages,  of  all  lands,  who  have  not  counted  life  dear  when  given 
for  a  good  cause.  Such  devoted  offerings  by  the  young  and 
brave,  surrendering  up  their  lives,  raise  us  all  above  the  fear 
of  death.  What  matters  it  when  we  die,  so  that  we  live 

nobly  ?  — 

4  They  are  the  dead,  the  buried, 

They  who  do  still  survive, 
In  sin  and  sense  interred,  — 
The  dead !  —  they  are  alive ! ' 

"  Fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters,  friends !  You  who  are 
in  grief  to-day,  mourning  the  dear  sons,  the  noble  husbands 
and  brothers,  who  have  fallen  on  all  these  bloody  fields,  do 


320  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

you  not  also  rejoice  as  you  mourn  ?  Do  you  not  also  thank 
God  for  the  great  opportunity  he  has  given  you  to  render  up 
in  his  service  these  precious  lambs,  these  costly  offerings? 
Ah !  I  know  that  you  feel  thus.  I  have  seen  it  in  your 
serene  look  of  inward  joy,  which  tells  me  you  are  talking 
with  your  angels.  They  have  not  wholly  left  you.  They 
go,  but  they  return.  To  each  of  these  noble  brothers  of  ours 
we  look  and  speak  from  the  depths  of  our  truest  instincts  and 

insight. 

4  So  we  may  lift  from  out  the  dust 
A  voice  as  unto  him  that  hears, 
A  cry  above  the  conquered  years, 
To  one  that  with  us  works,  and  trust. 

'  Known  and  unknown,  human,  divine ! 
Sweet  human  hand,  and  lips,  and  eyo, 
Dear  heavenly  friend  that  cannot  die, 
Mine,  mine  forever,  ever  mine ! 

'  So  all  is  well,  though  faith  and  form 
Be  sundered  in  the  night  of  fear.  — 
Well  roars  the  storm  to  those  who  hear 
A  deeper  voice  across  the  storm.' " 

The  addresses  were  followed  by  the  singing  of  a 
hymn  written  for  the  occasion,  by  Mrs.  J.  H.  Hana- 

ford. 

"  Softly  sing  the  requiem  holy 

O'er  this  still,  most  precious  clay, 
Loving  hearts  are  bending  lowly 
'Neath  the  chastening  rod,  to-day. 

"  Father  !  in  thy  care  we  leave  him 

Whom  our  hearts  have  loved  so  well. 
Nevermore  earth's  sin  shall  grieve  him, 
Now  with  thee  his  soul  shall  dwell. 

41  There  with  loved  ones  gone  before  him, 

He  will  wait  our  steps  to  greet ; 

With  the  sainted  one  who  bore  him, 

Sing  the  angel-anthem  sweet.^ 


OBSEQUIES.  321 

"  Grieve  we  not  in  hopeless  sorrow, 

O'er  our  honored  hero  slain, 
Soon  shall  dawn  a  brighter  morrow, 
And  we  all  shall  meet  again." 

"  The  hearse  which  bore  his  remains  to  their  last  resting- 
place  in  Mount  Auburn  was  draped  with  the  national  colors 
and  trimmed  with  rosettes  of  black  and  white,  and  drawn  by 
four  horses  wearing  heavy  black  plumes.  A  large  number 
of  mourners  followed  the  remains  to  the  grave,  and  dropped 
their  tears  over  the  sepulchre  of  this  fallen  patriot  and  phi- 
lanthropist." * 

*  Boston  Herald. 


14* 


* 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

APPRECIATION. 

"Ense  petit  placidam  sub  Hbertate  quietem." 

HE  libation  of  the  Chaplain's  life  has  been, 
we  trust,  accepted,  like  the  sacrifice  of  Abel, 
and  he  has  taken  his  place  under  the  altar 
with  the  souls  of  those  slain  for  the  word  of 
God.  His  devotion  touched  the  hearts  of  his  country- 
men ;  nor  was  it  regarded  as  out  of  keeping  with  the 
sacred  office  he  had  so  recently  laid  temporarily  aside, 
nor  as  a  close  unmeet  for  a  life  of  religious  and  philan- 
thropic labors.  Although  it  is  not  a  common  event  for 
a  chaplain  to  enter  the  lists  of  the  combatants,  yet  loyal 
hearts  felt  that  the  exigency  of  a  holy  cause  rendered 
the  act  noble,  appropriate,  and  heroical. 

One  of  the  first  expressions  in  reference  to  it  came 
from  the  heart  of  the  chief  magistrate  of  Massachu- 
setts, whose  patriotic  and  zealous  discharge  of  his  high 
duties  in  this  our  national  crisis  will  win  for  his  name 
a  proud  place  on  the  page  of  history.  We  insert 
the  letter :  — 

"COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

"  EXECUTIVE  DEPARTMENT,  BOSTON,  Dec.  15, 1862. 

"  RICHARD  F.  FULLER,  ESQ.,  Court  Street,  Boston. 

"  My  dear  Sir  :  I  observe,  with  grief  at  the  loss  sustained 
by  his  friends  and  by  the  service,  but  with  admiration  for  lu's 


APPRECIATION.  323 

heroic  enthusiasm,  the  death  of  your  brother,  the  Rev.  Arthur 
B.  Fuller,  Chaplain  of  the  Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment, 
while  fighting  in  the  ranks  of  the  Nineteenth  Massachusetts 
as  a  volunteer,  in  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg. 

"  My  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  him  and  all  your 
family  render  this  instance  of  bravery  and  of  affliction  one 
of  unusual  interest,  as  it  really  is  of  unusual  pathos. 

"  His  conduct  was  worthy  his  State  and  his  blood.  It  will 
be  forever  remembered.  Nor  was  it  too  soon  for  a  good  man 
to  die,  falling  as  he  did  in  splendid  devotion  to  a  sublime  idea 
of  duty,  adventuring  his  life  beyond  the  necessities  of  his 
position  or  the  occasion  of  his  office,  but  not  beyond  the  dic- 
tates of  an  ardent  nature,  nor,  in  my  judgment,  beyond  the 
highest  and  best  idea  of  the  example  and  decorum  of  the 
occasion. 

"  How  many  friends  at  home,  how  many  soldiers  in  the 
field,  will  feel  kindled,  consoled,  and  encouraged  by  this  ex- 
ceptional and  more  conspicuous  act  of  unselfish  and  spontane- 
ous patriotism. 

"  I  am  faithfully,  your  friend  and  servant, 

"  JOHN  A.  ANDREW." 

Such,  too,  was  the  sentiment  of  the  army.  We 
quote  from  a  sermon  by  Rev.  Edward  A.  Walker,  re- 
cently chaplain  of  the  1st  Conn.  Vol.  H.  Artillery. 

"  I  have  just  heard  of  the  death  of  Chaplain  Fuller  of  the 
Sixteenth  Massachusetts  Volunteers,  one  of  the  most  earnest 
and  faithful  officers  in  the  service.  I  visited  him  once  at 
Fortress  Monroe,  and  saw  the  results  of  his  labors  in  his  own 
regiment,  and  met  him  afterward  repeatedly  in  circumstances 
where  his  ability  and  energy  were  abundantly  exhibited. 
After  the  battle  of  Malvern  Hill,  when  our  forces  removed 
to  Harrison's  Landing,  and  when  some  five  thousand  wound- 
ed and  disabled  men  were  gathered  at  the  old  Harrison  estate, 


324  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Chaplain  Fuller  rendered  himself  eminently  serviceable, 
ministering  both  to  the  spiritual  and  physical  wants  of  the 
sufferers. 

"  The  miserable  condition  of  these  men  can  scarcely  be 
described.  After  a  week  of  fighting  and  marching,  the  heat 
having  been  oppressive  and  the  air  thick  with  penetrating 
dust,  they  arrived  by  night  in  a  drenching  rain  at  the  Harri- 
son estate.  The  overseer  had  been  directed,  in  the  event  of 
the  coming  of  the  Federal  troops,  to  destroy  whatever  he  could 
not  secrete ;  but  our  coming  was  so  sudden  as  to  prevent  this. 
The  house  was  soon  filled  from  cellar  to  garret  by  those 
whose  wounds  were  not  so  serious  as  to  impede  their  locomo- 
tion. Then  those  wounded  in  the  legs,  or  who  had  suffered 
much  from  loss  of  blood,  came  feebly  up  and  filled  all  places 
about  the  dwelling  that  were  left,  some  crawling  under  the 
bushes  in  the  garden,  others  lying  by  the  fences,  and  others 
still  sinking  directly  down  into  the  mud,  glad  of  the  sight  of  a 
house  and  shelter,  and  of  the  hope  of  medical  attendance. 
Within,  the  floor  was  so  occupied  with  men,  that  all  passage 
was  for  a  time  impossible.  The  carpets  were  covered  with 
mud  and  stains  of  blood,  while  the  rich  mirrors,  furniture, 
and  paintings  presented  a  painful  contrast  of  domestic  luxury 
with  all  the  horrors  of  war. 

"  Amid  these  scenes  of  suffering,  Chaplain  Fuller  labored 
with  untiring  energy,  now  unobtrusively  assisting  the  sur- 
geons in  their  more  arduous  labors,  now  bringing  food  and 
drink  to  those  who  were  unable  to  help  themselves,  now 
speaking  words  of  comfort  and  religious  consolation  to  the 
disheartened,  himself  at  all  tunes  cheerful,  patient,  and  help- 
ful. 

"  With  regard  to  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  although 
he  was  shot  with  musket  in  hand  while  taking  part  in  the 
attack  on  Fredericksburg,  I  cannot  believe  that  he  was  out 
of  his  proper  place,  or  acting  otherwise  than  with  a  conscien- 


APPRECIATION.  325 

tious  regard  for  his  duty  toward  his  men.  He  doubtless  felt 
that  his  example  would  inspire  them  with  greater  heroism, 
and  therefore  willingly  sacrificed  his  life  at  one  of  the  most 
critical  moments  of  the  war. 

"  I  trust  that  the  record  of  services  so  valuable  may  be 
preserved.  It  may  well  be  placed  side  by  side  with  that  of 
his  distinguished  sister." 

The  voice  of  the  press  was  of  a  similar  tenor. 
Says  one  :  *  — 

"  He  volunteered  in  the  hazardous  task  of  crossing  the 
river,  and  gave  his  life  as  the  price  of  his  zeal  and  patriotism. 
As  chaplain  of  the  Massachusetts  Sixteenth,  Mr.  Fuller  has 
been  unwearied  in  his  labors  for  the  material  as  well  as 
spiritual  good  of  the  men,  and  has  exercised  over  them  a 
remarkable  influence.  No  hardships  appalled  him,  and  he 
always  sustained  others  by  his  own  unflinching  courage 
and  his  devotion  to  the  great  cause  he  had  given  himself 
to  serve." 

Another,!  among  its  frequent  allusions  to  the  sub- 
ject, says  :  — 

"  He  was  an  active,  energetic,  devoted  soldier  of  the  Cross, 
who  did  his  best  to  awaken  a  true  religious  sentiment  in  camp, 
who  visited  the  hospitals,  who  was  an  honest  almoner  of 
bounties  intrusted  to  him,  and  who  was  not  only  ready  to 
chronicle  the  heroism  of  others,  but  who  took  his  place  in  the 
ranks. 

"  Through  his  death  the  Union  cause  has  met  with  no 
common  loss;  for  few  chaplains  in  the  army  have  been  so 
active,  energetic,  and  devoted  to  the  interests  of  their  charge, 
or  more  fully  inspired  by  a  patriotic  love  of  country." 

*  New  York  Tribune.  t  The  Boston  Journal. 


326  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Another,*  under  the  head  of  "  The  Glorious  Death 
of  Chaplain  Fuller,"  says  :  — 

"  Ever  a  lover  of  liberty  and  the  advocate  of  freedom  to 
all  the  human  race,  of  whatever  creed  or  complexion,  he  has 
manifested  his  devotion  to  his  principles  by  his  deeds  in  the 
moment  of  personal  peril. 

"  He  fully  appreciated  the  extent  and  purposes  of  the 
rebellion,  and  the  sacrifices  needed  to  put  it  down,  and  was 
willing  to  labor  and  suffer  with  others  in  the  great  work. 

"  His  death  was  feelingly  alluded  to  by  the  pastors  of  sev- 
eral of  the  churches  in  this  vicinity  yesterday." 

And,  in  another  connection :  — 

"  Rev.  Mr.  Fuller  had  his  own  ideas  of  the  duties  of  a  chap- 
lain in  this  war.  He  had  previously  been  a  peace  man,  and 
he  never  relinquished  his  love  of  peace.  But  he  felt,  unless 
all  government  is  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  traitors,  force  must 
be  lawful  for  its  defence  against  the  wicked  and  unprovoked 
rebellion,  —  nay,  more  than  lawful,  an  imperative  obligation. 
It  was  from  this  conviction  that  he  accepted  the  place  of 
chaplain,  believing  an  important  part  of  his  duty  to  be  to  stim- 
ulate the  men  to  a  brave  and  noble  bearing  as  Christian  sol- 
diers in  the  field.  He  thought  a  minister  should  not  be  like 
a  guide-board,  pointing  the  way  it  does  not  go  itself.  He 
often  said  he  would  not  urge  the  men,  or  rather  '  his  boys,'  as 
he  styled  them,  to  go  where  he  would  not  go  himself.  It  was 
on  this  principle  that  he  went  forward  with  his  regiment, 
deployed  in  the  van  as  skirmishers,  last  summer,  before  Rich- 
mond. 

"  He  was  suffering  under  a  violent  attack  of  headache ; 
but  some  of  the  men,  as  they  passed  his  tent,  remarked  they 
wished  they  had  a  headache.  This  determined  him  to  go 
forward.  He  was  made  a  mark  for  the  enemy's  sharpshooters, 

*  The  Boston  Traveller. 


APPRECIATION.  327 

and  narrowly  escaped  two  bullets  which  struck  trees  very 
near  him.  This  occurrence  gave  him  a  strong  hold  upon  the 
soldiers,  who  delighted  to  hear  the  admonitions  of  one  who 
did  not  flinch  from  the  dangers  he  encouraged  them  to  en- 
counter." 

A  correspondent  in  the  same  paper  writes,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Chaplain :  — 

"  Could  hero  ever  have  a  nobler  sentiment  engraven  on 
his  tombstone  than  that  which,  living,  he  thus  said,  and,  dy- 
ing, acted :  '  BETTEK  STILL  GIVE  UP  OUR  HEART'S  BLOOD 

IN  BRAVE  BATTLE  THAN  GIVE  UP  OUR  PRINCIPLES  IN  COW- 
ARDLY COMPROMISE  !  ' 

"  Let  these  heroic  words  be  cut  in  enduring  letters  on  his 
monument,  —  let  them  be  rendered  into  immortal  actions  in 
the  lives  of  Ms  friends." 

A  Western  paper  *  says,  in  reference  to  the  Chap- 
lain's funeral :  — 

"  It  was  attended  by  a  great  multitude,  among  whom  were 
to  be  found  the  chief  official  dignitaries  of  the  State  and  of 
the  city.  And  they  all  honored  themselves  in  thus  doing  the 
last  offices  for  the  noble  dead.  For,  the  devoted  servant  of 
his  God,  he  had,  as  the  ardent  friend  of  the  soldiers  of  his 
regiment,  shared  their  sorrows  and  sufferings  throughout  the 
sad  Peninsular  campaign ;  and  in  the  late  passage  of  the  Rap- 
pahannock  he  volunteered  to  be  among  the  first  to  enter  the 
boats  and  receive  the  fire  of  the  sharpshooters  of  the  enemy. 
And  here  it  was  he  fell. 

"  A  man  of  eloquence,  of  high  culture,  of  sincere  piety,  of 
ardent  patriotism,  of  firm  and  true  courage,  he  was  ever  to 
be  found  in  the  place  where  duty  called,  no  matter  what  the 

*  The  Northwestern. 


328  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

personal  sacrifice,  no  matter  what  the  danger.     In  peace  and 
in  war  he  fought  the  good  fight  as  a  Christian  and  a  hero." 

The  tone  of  the  religious  press  was  of  like  import. 
Says  one  :  *  — 

"  He  died  a  glorious  death  of  devotion  to  his  country,  and 
cheerful  self-sacrifice  to  save  its  life  and  liberty.  It  is  not 
an  unfit  close  to  an  earnest  and  warm-hearted  Christian  min- 
istry. 

"  From  extensive  correspondence,  I  know  that  Liberal 
Christianity  never  had  a  more  valuable  "Western  missionary, 
and  perhaps  this  is  not  saying  enough,  —  that,  by  teaching 
and  preaching  through  a  wide  section,  he  sowed  precious 
seed  which  cannot  perish,  doing  as  much  work  as  any  two 
men,  —  unquestionably  going  beyond  his  physical  strength, 
which  was  never  great,  —  and  leaving  through  Central  Illinois 
memories  which  time  cannot  efface.  It  was  our  notorious 
misappropriation  of  men  which  sanctioned  the  removal  of  this 
rarely  adapted  missionary  from  those  who  loved,  appreciated, 
and  in  some  cases  idolized  him." 

And  again  a  correspondent  in  the  same  paper 
writes :  — 

"I  attended,  at  Chauncy  Place  Church,  the  services  of 
music,  reading,  prayer,  and  addresses,  which  united  the 
voices  of  three  denominations  of  Christian  speakers  over  the 
lifeless  form  of  our  Brother  Fuller ;  not  our  '  late  brother,' 
for  he  is  more  our  brother  now  than  ever.  All  seemed  to 
feel  that  he  had  done  nobly.  I  feel  that  he  did  wisely,  and 
for  him  most  wisely,  in  acting  promptly,  as  he  did,  upon  the 
inspiration  of  the  hour.  His  case  seems  to  me  that  of  the 
Magdalen,  when  she  broke  the  alabaster  box  of  spikenard, 

*  The  Christian  Inquirer. 


APPKECIATION.  329 

and  would  have  poured  out  her  very  life,  on  the  feet  of  Jesus. 
Observers,  prudent  and  economical,  rebuked  her ;  but  the 
Master,  of  a  diviner  wisdom  than  theirs,  said,  defending  the 
act,  '  Trouble  her  not ;  she  hath  wrought  a  good'  work ;  she 
hath  done  what  she  could ;  and  wherever  the  Gospel  shall 
be  preached  in  all  the  world,  there  shall  this  deed  of  heart- 
sacrifice  go,  as  a  memorial  of  her.'  So  will  it  be  in  this  case. 
Did  the  world  ever  need  more  than  now,  —  when  has  our 
country  needed  so  much  as  now,  —  the  instant  daring  of  fear- 
less self-surrender? 

"  It  is  Ruskin's  '  lamp  of  sacrifice '  that  Brother  Fuller 
kindled,  at  such  cost  to  himself,  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
Rappahannock.  Such  a  soul  is  a  lamp  snatched  away  all  too 
soon  for  us,  and  set  in  the  firmament  of  heaven.  We  that 
loved  him  and  valued  him  even  more  for  his  heart  than  for 
his  head,  preferred  to  keep  his  beacon-light  on  our  own  rocky 
shores ;  but  God  knew  better,  and  took  him  away. 

"  I  delight,  and  shall  delight,  to  think  of  the  last  day  of  his 
earthly  life  as  a  splendid  exhibition  of  that  impulsive  and 
lofty  energy  which,  put  forth  for  God  and  liberty  and  duty, 
is  justly  adored  by  the  leading  nations  of  Christendom." 

Another  says  of  him :  *  — 

"  His  love  of  country  required  no  artificial  stimulant,  for 
in  his  warm  heart  was  the  clear  flame  of  patriotism  ever 
burning  brightly,  communicating  its  glow  and  warmth  to  all 
with  whom  he  had  to  do. 

"Faithful  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  a  Christian 
minister  at  home,  he  was  faithful  to  his  highest  conceptions 
of  duty  to  his  regiment.  He  was  a  friend  to  those  who 
looked  for  friendly  counsel,  he  was  a  brother  to  those  who 
needed  a  brother's  sympathy,  and  in  hours  of  weakness  and 
suffering,  the  tenderness  of  his  heart,  and  the  self-forgetful- 

*  The  Christian  Register. 


330  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

ness  of  his  spirit,  rendered  his  service  to  those  under  his 
charge  a  grateful  alleviation  of  their  loneliness  and  pain.  As 
a  Christian  minister,  his  record  is  upon  the  purer  tablets 
above,  and  he  will  live  in  the  memories  of  those  with  whom 
he  has  been  associated  as  pastor,  preacher,  and  friend.  His 
consecration  to  a  glorious  service  is  now  renewed  in  another 
world." 

And  the  same  paper  thus  refers  to  his  funeral :  — 

"  It  was  a  most  impressive  thought,  that  he  who  but  a  few 
months  ago  had  spoken  so  earnestly  in  the  morning  confer- 
ence meetings  of  Anniversary  week,  from  the  very  spot  upon 
which  his  body  then  rested,  was  lying  there  silent  and  cold 
in  the  embrace  of  death.  However  moving  his  appeals  had 
been  when  living,  there  was  a  greater  eloquence  in  his 
marble  lips  and  brow,  which  told  of  self-sacrifice,  of  suffer- 
ing in  the  holy  cause." 

A  correspondent  in  another  *  writes :  — 

"  Chaplain  Fuller  spent  several  days  with  me  at  this  hos- 
pital and  the  parole  camp  just  before  he  joined  his  regiment, 
and  went  into  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  where  he  fell. 
I  became  very  much  attached  to  him,  and  never  have  I  met 
a  chaplain  in  the  United  States  army  that  in  my  opinion  was 
better  adapted  to  the  army  work.  His  heart  and  soul  were 
in  it.  He  spoke  plainly,  and  with  great  kindness  and  power 
to  the  soldier.  All  heard  with  interest,  and  many  with  profit. 
Many  soldiers  at  Camp  Parole  wept  like  children  as  he 
spoke  to  them  of  home  and  loved  ones,  and  as  he  pointed 
them  to  Jesus,  the  soldiers'  friend,  and  instructed  them  to 
copy  his  noble  example,  and  seek  the  favor  of  God.  He  was 
the  right  man  in  the  right  place.  He  remarked  to  me  on 
Sabbath  morning,  as  we  were  on  our  way  from  this  city  to 

*  Chaplain  Henry  C.  Henries,  in  Zion's  Herald. 


APPRECIATION.  331 

the  Parole  Camp,   '"We  all  have  to  turn  itinerants  in  the 
army,  and  preach  Methodist  doctrines.'     But  he  has  gone. 
Side  by  side  he  lay  with  many  of  the  noble  and  brave  on 
that  fatal  day.     May  God  bless  the  dear  ones  of  his  house 
hold  he  loved  so  well." 

We  quote  from  still  another :  *  — 

"  From  merely  a  limited  acquaintance  with  him,  we  were 
led  to  admire  his  intense  patriotism,  his  self-devotion,  and  his 
noble,  catholic  spirit.  The  patriot-martyr  has  fallen.  An- 
other precious,  cherished  life  has  been  laid  cheerfully  down 
for  the  redemption  of  our  country  from  the  barbarism  of  slav- 
ery. Rest,  noble  hero,  with  the  patriot  dead !  Green  may 
be  the  turf  above  thy  mortal  form,  yet  greener  and  fresher, 
yea,  perennial,  shall  be  thy  memory  in  the  hearts  of  thy  sur- 
viving friends  and  thy  grateful  countrymen ! 

"  While  our  country  shall  have  a  name  and  place  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  so  long  will  the  heroic  life  and  more 
than  heroic  death  of  Arthur  B.  Fuller  be  remembered  and 
pointed  to  as  worthy  of  admiration  and  imitation." 

Nor  did  his  fellow-laborers  in  the  temperance  cause 
forget  him.  The  Massachusetts  Temperance  Alliance 

"  Resolved,  That  in  the  death  of  the  Rev.  A.  B.  Fuller, 
Chaplain  of  the  Massachusetts  Sixteenth  Regiment,  the 
Massachusetts  State  Temperance  Alliance  has  lost  a  faith- 
ful member,  who,  by  his  wise  counsels  and  his  earnest, 
able,  and  eloquent  advocacy  of  the  cause  of  temperance  for 
many  years,  has  contributed  greatly  to  its  success,  and  has 
won  the  admiration  and  shall  have  the  affectionate  remem- 
brance of  this  Alliance." 

We  must  not  omit  the  following  testimony  of  Rev. 
John  Pierpont,  written  in  the  Chaplain's  lifetime  :  — 

*  Herald  of  Gospel  Liberty. 


332  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

"  I  know,  and  for  about  twenty  years  have  known,  Rev. 
Arthur  B.  Fuller  as  a  preacher  of  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the 
blessed  God,  —  a  preacher  'sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,'  — 
without  the  fear  of  man  or  reproach  from  man.  Nor,  in  my 
humble  opinion,  is  he  half  so  much  afraid  of  the  Devil  as  the 
Devil  is  of  him." 

The  Chaplain's  widow  was  not  entitled  to  a  pension, 
as  he  had  been  discharged,  and  had  not  yet  received 
a  new  appointment.  On  her  petition  to  Congress,  a 
special  law  providing  her  a  pension  very  promptly 
passed  both  Houses  without  opposition.  Hon.  Charles 
Sumner  presented  the  petition  in  the  Senate,  remark- 
ing, that 

«  From  the  1st  day  of  August,  1861,  Arthur  B.  Fuller  had 
been  a  duly  commissioned  chaplain  in  the  Sixteenth  Massa- 
chusetts Regiment  of  Volunteers,  and  had  followed  its  flag 
faithfully,  patriotically,  religiously,  through  all  the  perils  of 
the  Peninsula,  and  wherever  else  it  had  been  borne." 

The  petition  having  been  referred  to  the  Committee 
on  Pensions,  they  reported, 

"  That  it  appears  that  Arthur  B.  Fuller  was  the  chaplain 
of  the  Sixteenth  Regiment  of  Massachusetts  Volunteers ; 
that  his  health  was  much  impaired  by  the  hardships  and 
exposures  of  the  Peninsular  campaign;  that  after  repeated 
efforts  to  renew  his  labors  in  the  camp  of  his  regiment,  which 
were  foiled  by  his  sickness  returning  upon  every  such  attempt, 
it  was  finally  determined,  by  the  advice  of  army  surgeons,  that 
his  malady  was  such  that  he  could  not  bear  exposure  in  the 
field.  He  was  accordingly  honorably  discharged,  on  surgeon's 
certificate  of  disability,  on  the  10th  day  of  December,  1862. 
On  the  llth  day  of  December,  on  the  call  for  volunteers  to 
cross  the  Rappahannock  at  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  he 


APPKECIATION.  333 

volunteered,  and  was  killed  in  the  service  soon  after  entering 
Fredericksburg. 

"  The  committee  think  that,  though  Chaplain  Fuller  was 
technically  out  of  the  service  of  the  United  States,  still  he 
was  really  in  the  service  of  his  country  and  in  the  line  of 
duty  while  bravely  leading  on  the  soldiers,  and  dying  on  the 
field  of  battle.  They  therefore  think  the  petitioner  entitled 
to  the  relief  for  which  she  prays,  and  accordingly  report  a 
bill." 

4 

The  proceedings  of  the  same  Congress  in  reference 
to  the  Conscription  bill  illustrate  the  view  entertained 
by  the  nation  of  the  holy  cause  of  suppressing  re- 
bellion and  the  propriety  of  clergymen  bearing  arms  in 
this  war.  Senator  Sumner  moved  an  amendment  to 
the  bill,  exempting  clergymen  from  military  conscrip- 
tion. In  support  of  his  amendment  he  said  :  — 

"  In  former  days  bishops  have  worn  coats  of  mail  and  led 
embattled  forces ;  and  there  are  many  instances  where  the 
chaplain  has  assumed  all  the  duties  of  the  soldier.  At  the 
famous  battle  of  Fontenoy,  there  was  a  chaplain  in  the  Brit- 
ish army,  with  a  name  subsequently  historic,  who,  by  his 
military  services,  acquired  the  title  of  '  the  fighting  chaplain 
of  Fontenoy.'  This  was  the  famous  Edinburgh  professor, 
Adam  Ferguson,  author  of  the  History  of  Ancient  Rome. 
And  only  a  few  days  ago,  I  presented  a  petition  for  a  pen- 
sion from  the  widow  of  Rev.  Arthur  B.  Fuller,  chaplain,  who 
fell  fighting  at  Fredericksburg.  But  these  instances  are  ex- 
ceptional. Legislation  cannot  be  founded  on  exceptions." 

"  Mr.  McDouGALL.  I  have  as  much  regard  for  the  min- 
isters of  the  Gospel  as  any  gentleman  on  this  floor ;  but  I 
think  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  be  exempted  more 
than  any  one  of  those  who  profess  to  believe  in  the  doctrines 
they  teach. 


334  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

"  The  men  in  the  days  of  the  Revolution  who  filled  the 
pulpit  not  only  called  the  men  of  the  young  nation  to  arms, 
but  they  led  them  to  the  field ;  and  a  man  who  has  faith 
enough  to  bear  the  banner  of  the  Christian  faith  is  fit  to  be  a 
soldier  in  any  war  supported  by  just  principles,  any  war  hi 
the  maintenance  of  a  righteous  cause.  There  is  not  a  true 
believer  in  the  great  principles  of  democracy,  as  taught  by 
Him  who  first  bore  the  cross,  who  is  not  willing  to  fight  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  great  right  of  a  people  to  maintain 
themselves  in  the  forms  of  government.  I  will  ask  the 
Senator  from  Massachusetts  to  modify  his  proposition  so 
as  not  to  include  the  Methodist  clergy,  because  they  are 
a  fighting  clergy." 

"  Mr.  FESSENDEN.  I  have  but  one  word  to  say.  I  shall 
vote  against  the  exemption,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  think 
it  will  be  an  imputation  upon  the  clergymen  of  my  section  of 
the  country  which  they  would  resent," 

The  amendment  was  rejected,  and  the  bill  as  it 
passed  included  the  clergy. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


TRIBUTES  IN  VEKSE. 

"Begin,  then,  sisters  of  the  sacred  well 
That  from  beneath  the  seat  of  Jove  doth  spring, 
Begin,  and  somewhat  louder  sweep  the  string  ! ' 


FUNERAL  OF  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

T"TPON  the  church  altar  what  form  lieth  low, 
U      The  flag  of  his  country  wrapped  round  him  ? 
The  seal  as  of  peace  sleeps  on  his  broad  brow, 

In  battle  though  Azrael  found  him  ! 
Ah !  this  is  the  chaplain  who  offered  his  life, 
And,  dying  for  country,  won  peace  in  the  strife  ! 

The  lips  of  this  martyr,  now  silent  and  cold, 
Were  wont,  with  their  eloquence  glowing, 

The  soldiers  to  kindle,  with  loyal  hearts  bold 
And  firm,  to  the  battle-field  going  : 

Where,  willing  to  practise  what  others  he  taught, 

In  van  of  the  peril  he  fearlessly  fought 

Hark !  what  martial  music  is  heard  in  the  streets, 
Of  mingled  gloom,  glory,  and  gladness  ? 

The  throb  of  the  muffled  drum  mournfully  beats ! 
The  trumpet  speaks  triumph  and  sadness,  — 

A  strain  swelling  proudly  in  praise  of  the  brave, 

But  sinking  to  grief  as  it  leads  to  the  grave  ! 


336  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

The  train  of  the  mourners  thus  slowly  proceeds, 

By  soldiers  in  sorrow  escorted, 
With  draped  carriage  drawn  by  four  black-plumed  steeds, 

Its  pall  with  the  banner  consorted  : 
And  hushed  is  the  crowd  where  it  moves  in  the  street, 
Their  hearts  with  the  muffled  drum  seeming  to  beat ! 

And  now  to  Mount  Auburn  they  bear  the  dead  brave, 

The  soldiers  his  coffin  surrounding, 
Who  lower  their  heads  as  he  sinks  in  the  grave,  — 

And  then,  with  the  volleys  resounding, 
Is  sorrow  of  martial  hearts  fitly  expressed, 
And  earth  folds  the  hero  to  sleep  in  her  breast ! 


REV.  ARTHUR  B.   FULLER. 

Servant  of  God  !  thy  race  is  run, 

Life's  toils  and  trials  o'er  ; 
A  crown  of  glory  thou  hast  won 

By  Rappahannock's  shore. 

Thou  wast  not  kissed  by  fragrant  breeze, 
Where  Summer  reigns  the  year, 

Nor  stretched  on  "  flowery  beds  of  ease," 
When  Azrael  grim  drew  near. 

'Neath  smoke-wreathed  sky,  in  battle-storm, 

While  heroes  led  the  van, 
With  musket  clenched  and  heart  all  warm, 

He  found  thee,  noble  man ! 

Anon  a  winged  death-shot  came, 

Unerring,  to  thy  breast ; 
It  quenched  at  once  the  vital  flame, 

And  brought  eternal  rest. 


TRIBUTES  IN   VERSE.  337 

It  let  thy  spirit  upward  soar, 

To  join  the  martyred  throng 
Who  chant,  as  angels  did  of  yore, 

Sublime,  joy-giving  song. 

Now  let  the  martial  paean  swell, 

Loud,  sweet,  and  clear  in  air ! 
Toll  not  a  solemn,  dirge-like  knell,  — 

Thy  bliss  we  hope  to  share  ; 

To  tread  at  last  the  heavenly  strand, 

When  our  course,  too,  is  run ; 
To  stand  for  aye  at  Christ's  right  hand, 

And  hear  him  say,  "  Well  done ! " 

WILDER. 


REV.   ARTHUR  B.   FULLER. 

"  Something  for  my  country  ! "  was  thy  battle-cry, 

Man's  great  glory ;  with  Curtius,  as  with  thee. 
Nor  for  "  country  "  only  wouldst  thou  gladly  die. 

Man's  cause  was  thine,  by  ready  sympathy. 
That  "  something  "  was  thy  life,  O  generous  soul ! 

Gav'st  all !  and  now  to  keep  thee  from  the  stain 
Of  blood,  angelic  music's  muffled  roll 

Calls  Angel  Death  to  count  thee  with  the  slain, 
To  whisper  his  brief  measure  in  thine  ear, 
And  snatch  to  heaven  their  tried  and  proved  compeer. 

Christian  Register. 


REV.  ARTHUR  B.   FULLER. 

BY   CHISLON. 

He  died,  —  but  to  a  noble  cause 
His  precious  life  was  given  ! 

He  died,  —  but  he  has  left  behind 
A  shining  path  to  Heaven ! 
15 


338  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Although  the  tidings  of  his  death 
Came  like  a  stunning  blow, 

So  nobly  did  he  fall,  we  feel 
'T  is  blessed  he  should  go. 

O,  none  can  gain  a  brighter  name, 

Or  win  a  deeper  love, 
Than  he  who  sweetly  sings  to-day 

The  songs  of  heaven  above. 
We  cannot  find  it  in  our  hearts 

To  raise  a  note  of  woe ; 
So  nobly  did  he  fall,  we  feel 

'T  is  blessed  thus  to  go  ! 

NORTON,  Mass.,  Dec.  31, 1862. 


REV.   ARTHUR   B.   FULLER. 

BY   MABELLK. 

No  dearer  the  gift,  O  my  Country  !  is  thine 
Than  the  one  which  in  tears  we  lay  on  thy  shrine  ; 
And  pray  that  his  life,  with  its  teachings  so  pure, 
May  give  ns  the  strength  which  we  need  to  endure. 
Since  our  Father  in  mercy  has  set  his  soul  free, 
When  no  more  he  could  do,  O  my  Country !  for  thee. 

Write  his  name  with  living  heroes, 
Though  the  noble  soul  has  fled ; 

Write  it  still  in  golden  letters, 
Arthur  Fuller  is  not  dead. 

To  this  work  of  Christ,  his  Master, 

O  how  faithful  he  has  been  1 
As  in  all  his  deeds  of  mercy, 

To  hie  suffering  fellow-men. 


TRIBUTES  IN  VERSE.  339 

He  has  watched  beside  their  pillow 

With  a  father's  tender  care ; 
And  no  peril,  death,  nor  danger 

Was  too  hard  for  him  to  share. 

Cold,  white  lips  have  left  their  blessing 

For  the  faithful,  kindly  hand, 
Guiding  them  beside  still  waters, 
•   Leading  to  the  Better  Land. 


NOW  AND  THEN. 

How  narrow  the  terminal  bound 
Dividing  the  now  and  the  then ; 

Though  scenes  it  encloses  around 
We  never  may  visit  again  ! 

It  shows,  like  the  cavern  of  yore, 

The  footsteps  returning  no  more !  * 

These  ramparts  the  moments  upraise 

Exclude  us  forever,  alas  ! 
Though  soaring  love  vainly  essays 

His  wings,  o'er  the  summit  to  pass. 
Nor  higher  can  memory  climb 
Than  serves  to  look  over  the  time  ! 

Ah  I  can  it  be,  brother,  that  thou, 
Who  shared  every  burden  I  bore, 

Whose  life-lamp  shone  brightly  but  now, 
Hast  passed  to  eternity's  shore, 

Where  mortal  ne'er  mixed  with  the  choir, 

Save  Orpheus,  once,  with  his  lyre  ? 

*  "  Nulla  vestigia  retrorsum." 


340  CHAPLAIN   FULLER. 

Alas  !  that  I  never  shall  know 

That  hand's  cordial  pressure  again, 

The  living  lips'  musical  flow, 

And  features  all  lighted  up,  then  ! 

That  cadence  I  still  seem  to  hear ! 

The  pleasant  laugh  rings  in  my  ear  ! 

His  body,  devoted  to  Mars, 

Was  all  that  rebellion  could  kill : 

His  life  broke  in  glorious  stars, 
That  burn  in  the  firmament  still ! 

In  Jesus  he  slept,  in  the  strife, 

Where  death  fitly  ended  his  life ! 


REV.   A.   B.   FULLER. 

BY  MBS.   J.   H.   HANAFOKD. 

Borne  o'er  death's  rolling  wave  on  angel  pinions, 

Our  brother  rests 
Where  blessed  Peace  rules  all  the  fair  dominions, 

And  War's  rude  crests, 
And  martial  notes,  and  hosts  arrayed  for  battle, 

Are  known  no  more, 
And  never  swords  shall  clash,  nor  death-balls  rattle, 

Upon  that  shore. 

A  hero,  in  the  strife  for  Freedom  dying, 

Immortal  bays 
Shall  deck  the  brow  in  death's  embrace  now  lying, 

And  tuneful  lays 
From  hearts  sincere  his  virtues  be  declaring 

Who  gave  his  all,  — 
Home,  health,  and  life,  —  obedient  on  hearing 

His  country's  call. 


TRIBUTES  IN   VERSE.  341 

Yet  sad  our  hearts,  who  mourn  the  friend  so  cherished, 

The  noble  soul, 
Thank  God !  who  lives,  while  but  our  hopes  have  perished, 

And  at  the  goal 
Of  our  short  race  will  bid  us  welcome  gladly, 

And  each  true  heart 
Forget  the  pangs  which  here  it  feels  so  sadly, 

While  friends  depart. 


O  Brother  !  'neath  the  shadow  we  shall  wander, 

And  think  of  thee ; 
Upon  thy  many  virtues  sweetly  ponder, 

And  pray  to  be 
Where  thou  art  resting  on  the  shores  immortal,  — 

With  those  so  dear 
Who  earlier  entered  heaven's  gleaming  portal, 

And  left  thee  here. 


Thou  faithful  servant  of  the  High  and  Holy  ! 

Heaven  shall  be 
Still  nearer  to  the  souls  that,  bending  lowly, 

Now  mourn  for  thee, 
And  with  the  Everlasting  Arm  beneath  them, 

Float  with  the  tide 
Which  bears  them  on  where  thou  erelong  shalt  greet  them, 

The  other  side. 


Hero  and  Saint !  enrolled  upon  the  pages 

Of  History, 
Telling  of  deeds  sublime  to  future  ages, 

Thy  name  shall  be. 
And,  better  still,  the  Lamb's  resplendent  volume 

Thy  name  shall  bear, 
Heading,  perchance,  a  long  and  brilliant  column 

Of  heroes  there. 


342  CHAPLAIN  FULLER. 

Farewell  for  Time !  no  more  we  here  shall  greet  thee, 

But,  far  on  high, 
Among  the  angels,  we  shall  surely  meet  thee, 

No  more  to  die, 
And  from  our  lips  the  chalice,  now  so  bitter, 

Our  God  will  take, 
And  bid  us  drink  from  heaven's  fountain  sweeter, 

When  we  awake. 


THE   END. 


Cambridge :  Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigetow,  &  Co. 


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